


Hidden Behind Our Appearances

by ohinyan



Series: Hidden [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Dark, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-22
Updated: 2013-10-04
Packaged: 2017-12-24 07:48:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 20
Words: 29,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/937407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohinyan/pseuds/ohinyan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Year That Never Was AU. A Doctor Who/Torchwood crossover. Note that this is a very dark fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have decided to do this story as a trilogy. The first part (this part) is a Valiant story with Torchwood called Hidden Behind Our Appearances. The second follows Jack after the Valiant, and Torchwood play a small part. In part three Jack is reunited with Torchwood.

Né en 17 a Leidenstadt - Freddericks, Goldman, Jones

No one ever knows what is in our guts  
Hidden behind our appearances  
The soul of someone brave, of an accomplice or an executioner,  
Or the worst or the most beautiful?  
Will we be those who resist or just sheep in the flock,  
If more than words were needed?

 

 

Chapter 1

Day 14-30

 

It had been two weeks since Martha had escaped from the Valiant, with Jack's vortex manipulator. The aged Doctor had spent most of that time in his wheelchair, being ignored by the Master. He turned up every now and then, to gloat and taunt the Doctor, but his attention was obviously elsewhere. The Doctor supposed there must be a lot to organise for world domination.

 

He was very worried about Jack. No one the Doctor had spoken to in those two weeks had seen, or heard, anything about Jack. The Doctor was ashamed to remember how he had tried to run from him again, and how he had treated him when they were reunited. His shame was compounded by Jack's actions in helping Martha escape, rather than escaping himself, which he could easily have done. Knowing how fascinated the Master would be in Jack, touched as he was by the time vortex, increased the Doctor's worry tenfold. The Doctor knew that the Master was capable of terrible acts, and desperately hoped that he wouldn't unleash that aspect of his personality on the immortal, who would be incredibly vulnerable to the Master's sadistic side.

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

As the days went on, the Master's interaction with the Doctor began to increase. He delighted in dragging in men and women, who had been captured by the Toclafane. They had been attempting to put up some sort of resistance, however futile. Most of these unfortunate people had seen their friends and relatives hacked to death in front of them.

 

Each time, he would call the Doctor out of his tent, and show him the captive. He would offer to de-age the Doctor by 10 years if he would kill them. Each time, the Doctor would refuse, and the captive would be taken down to the cells, never to be seen again. Every time, the Master would taunt the Doctor, pointing out that he would soon have been back to his normal age if he had cooperated.

 

The Doctor let the taunts wash over him. He would never join in the Master's sadistic games. And he knew that the Master, though he undoubtedly would have kept his word about the de-aging, would equally surely have found reasons to age him again.

 

Frustrated by the game, and the lack of reaction from the Doctor, the Master became angry and withdrew food from the Doctor for days at a time. His actions on the ground became ever more brutal, with whole communities being wiped out by the Toclafane.

 

The Doctor was sickened by the Master's actions, and brutality, but his determination to bring the last member of his race back from his obvious madness never flagged. This became the most important focus of the Doctor's existence. Despite this focus, the Doctor did not forget Jack. He frequently asked the Master if he could see Jack, and what had happened to him.

 

The Master was always pleased when the Doctor asked about Jack. He would never give any information, or let the Doctor see Jack, but he would inwardly smirk with glee.

 

* * * * * *

 

Events took a turn for the worse thirty days after the Toclafane descended, when the Master danced onto the flight deck, beaming.

 

“Doctor, Doctor, can you guess who I've managed to capture?”

 

The Doctor did not answer.

 

“No? I've been after them since day one, but I'm amazed they were this easy to capture. It's Handsome Jack's little playmates. His Torchwood team, all four of them.”

 

The Doctor did not react, but inwardly his heart sank. Jack would be heartbroken if anything happened to his friends. And the Master would use them to hurt him.

 

“Well, I just thought I'd let you know the good news, gramps. I'd better go and get them settled in now. Their helicopter will be arriving any moment. I do like the personal touch.”

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

The Master was waiting at the helipad, when the helicopter landed. The wind from the rotors whipped through his hair, and pulled at his clothes. As the motor died, three guards jumped out and a further three guards shoved four bound figures out of the door, to fall heavily onto the pad. An escort of Toclafane swirled around gleefully chattering. “We found them for you Mister Master, we found them but we didn't slice and dice.”

 

The Master approached the bound figures and, grabbing the nearest, yanked her head upwards viciously. “So Gwen Cooper, welcome to the Valiant. I hope you have an interesting stay.” He leered malevolently at her on the word interesting.”

 

Gwen tried to yank her head away from him, earning a kick in the ribs from a guard in the process.

 

The Master dropped her back to the floor, and moved on to the others, yanking their heads up to see who they were. He stopped at Ianto. “So, Ianto Jones, Handsome Jack's part time shag. And you're not wearing a suit. I'm really disappointed.”

 

He dropped Ianto roughly back down to the ground, and ordered the guards to take them down to the cells.

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

The Torchwood team were manhandled down to the cells, and locked in. Ianto and Owen were in one cell, and Gwen and Tosh in another. They could talk to each other, but not see the occupants of the neighbouring cell. All four were in pain from the injuries they had received when being captured. Fortunately, all the injuries were minor and would heal well on their own, without medical treatment.

 

Ianto's priority was not his health, but what the Master had said.

 

“Did you hear what Saxon said?” he asked the others. “He must know Jack. Perhaps he's here!”

 

“I thought you said Jack had run off with the Doctor,” queried Gwen.

 

“He did, but Saxon must know him from somewhere. He knew that Jack and I were …, involved. He even knows that I usually wear suits, for god's sake. How on Earth would he know that? I've never met him before.”

 

“I think we have more to worry about here than whether Saxon knows Jack or not,” growled Owen. In case you've forgotten, we've been captured by the psychotic maniac who unleashed the Toclafane on the Earth, and had the US president killed. Jack ran out on us, he's irrelevant now.”

 

Tosh looked shocked at Owen's harsh statement, disagreeing with his sentiments.

 

And to Ianto, Jack would never be irrelevant. He had known that his feelings for Jack were deeper than those Jack had for him, but, even so, he had been deeply hurt when Jack left without a word. Things would probably never be healed between them, even if that's what Jack wanted. But that didn't mean that he didn't want to know what happened to him, or get an explanation of why he left.


	2. Chapter 2

Day 2 to 30

 

Jack revived to find himself no longer on the flight deck of the Valiant, where he had been shot with the laser screwdriver. The Master had thought he would be easier to deal with dead, so had shot him for a second time after the Toclafane were unleashed on the Earth. He was in a large, windowless, room, chained by the wrists, with his arms outstretched to either side between two pillars. He was wearing the same clothes he had died in, minus the coat and shoes. The faint thrumming, coming through the floor, told him that he was still on the Valiant. He looked around, and saw another set of chains dangling from the ceiling, a six foot table, with restraints at the four corners, alongside one wall, and a wooden beam at shoulder height the length of another. Metal cabinets lined the far end of the room. There was a TV screen set high on one wall. The floor was a utilitarian tile, reminiscent of a hospital. The implications of what the room was intended for, were terrifyingly obvious.

He stood in the chains, for what seemed like days, before anyone came in to the room. By this time he was incredibly thirsty, and his arms and shoulders were burning with strain.

Eventually the Master walked into the room. He was alone. He walked around Jack, surveying him critically. “I'm sorry I haven't been the perfect host,” he apologised. “I've had a lot to do. But, for the moment, you have my undivided attention.”

Jack straightened himself up in his bonds, and tried not to look afraid.

“Are you thirsty,” the Master asked, surprisingly.

Jack didn't want to admit to weakness, but he did desperately want water, and if this was a chance at getting some he couldn't pass it up. He nodded.

The Master held out a cup to him, and let him drink. “We don't want you dying of dehydration, now, do we? That would ruin my experiment.”

Jack's trepidation was increasing by the minute, but he forced himself to be calm. “What is this place?” he asked.

“Do you like it?” the Master beamed. I had it built specially for you. It's my special secret room. It leads directly into my bedroom suite, and the door is undetectable. Only I, and two specially chosen guards, know that it exists. Even my dear Lucy hasn't a clue. She has her own suite of rooms down the corridor, so she won't notice any comings or goings. And it's fully soundproofed, so we can be as noisy as we like and no one will notice.”

“I'm honoured,” replied Jack sarcastically, “but why go to all this bother just for me?”

“Oh, you are fascinating,” the Master purred. The time vortex is swirling through you, and I can feel it. Almost taste it.” As he said this, the Master approached him from behind and, slipping his arms around Jack, caressed his chest under his T-shirt. He pressed himself full length along Jack's body.”

Jack cringed away, and the Master let go, laughing.

“I included this room in the plans for the Valiant, when I was Minister of Defence. Needless to say that no one, now living, remembers approving or building it. But enough of that. For now I just want to do a few little experiments, to find out how you tick.”

He turned and opened one of the cabinets, taking out a cricket bat. “I find that primitive methods often work best.” As he spoke he swung the bat and hit Jack's left forearm with it, with all his strength.

Jack screamed in pain, as the bones in his forearm broke. But the Master didn't stop there. He brought the bat down on Jack's right wrist, then his left ankle, his right thigh and finally his right shoulder.

Jack was now sobbing, as the chains held him upright and pulled agonisingly on his broken bones. He could not hold himself up with his legs, but dangled by his arms from the chains.

The Master regarded him with a satisfied smile. “That should do nicely. I haven't done any major damage, so we'll be able to see how your body reacts to injuries when you don't die.”

He then left, securing the soundproofed door behind him as he went, leaving Jack moaning in agony.

* * * * * *

A day later, the Master returned to check on Jack's progress. He found him semi-conscious, in a haze of pain, with the injuries showing no signs of accelerated healing. He pulled back on Jack's hair and poured some water down his throat. Then he left again, and didn't return for another two days. The recording devices he had running made sure that he wouldn't miss anything of interest.

* * * * * * *

After a few days, the Master concluded that non-fatal injuries, of this type, would not heal unless Jack died. It was time to reset the experiment, and start again. He did this with a cricket bat to the back of Jack's head.

* * * * * *

As the days went on, the Master, often with the assistance of the guards Stevens and Modine, tried many different types of injury to Jack: cutting, burning, piercing and chopping bits off. He eventually concluded what had been obvious from early on. Jack had no special healing powers, unless he died. The Master wanted to be thorough however, and, when the Doctor annoyed him, he went all out with the nastiest experiments he could devise. Jack seemed to react worst to burning, so the Master concentrated on that when he was angry. At his angriest, he used a blowtorch to blind him.

Over the weeks that this continued, Jack changed from a strong defiant man, to one who was reduced to a state of terror the minute anyone came into the cell, He could cope with the deaths, he was well practised at that, but what the Master was doing was plain and simple torture. Long term. And, there was barely any respite between 'experiments'. The Master was wearing him down, body and soul. He wasn't sure how long he could cope.

The only hope he had of rescue was the Doctor, but, given the state the Doctor had been in the last time he saw him, he knew that it was a forlorn hope.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING EXPLICIT VIOLENCE

Day 30-36

In their cells, the Torchwood team tried to tune out the sounds of screaming that were coming from the end of the corridor. They had seen several guards enter the cell, hours earlier, and could hear them interrogating the prisoner. They seemed to think the man knew the whereabouts of a resistance group. The screams were getting weaker now.

Tosh and Gwen huddled together in their cell, for warmth, and for comfort against the fear that the Master, or his guards, would soon turn their attention from the unknown man to them, or Ianto and Owen. They had only been in the cells for three days, but already several prisoners had been tortured and killed, their mangled bodies dragged past the door of their cell for disposal.

The screams abruptly ceased, and the guards swore. “The Master'll have our hide for letting this one die before we got any information out of him,” growled Modine.

“Oh, he would have talked if he knew anything,” replied Stevens. “No one could keep quiet through that.” They left the cell, ordering the other guards to drag the body out and throw it off the top deck.

As Stevens and Modine passed Ianto and Owen's cell, they looked in through the bars and taunted them. “You could be next. We're really looking forward to getting to know you better.” Laughing, they left the cell block to go report to the Master.

“Do your worst,” shouted Owen after them. “We won't tell you anything.”

“Oh, great Owen, egg them on why don't you?” said Ianto sarcastically. “It's not as if we even have anything to tell. The Master already has the Hub, and all the information there, what else would he need to know.”

* * * * * *

A 3 foot long, 2 inch wide, metal spike embedded in a heavy base stood in the middle of the Master's secret room. The sharp point gleamed, even in the dim light.

The Master ordered Stevens and Modine to release Jack from his chains, and move him to stand between the Master and the spike.

Jack was naked and shivering, too weak and confused to take proper notice of it.

“Freak,” the Master shouted, “Freak, look at me.”

With difficulty, Jack raised his head.

“We're going to try a new experiment today, Freak. I've got a shiny new toy and you're going to test it out. We're going to impale you on that spike, and see how long it takes for you to get off it.”

As he said this, the guards grabbed Jack by the arms, and started dragging him towards it. Jack looked at it with horror, and tried to fight, but they easily overpowered him. When they reached it, they raised him up and pushed his body backwards and downwards onto it. Jack shrieked in agony as the spike impaled him through his abdomen, but the guards kept pushing downwards until his back touched the base. This left two feet of the spike, now covered in blood, sticking out above him.

The Master leaned over him as he screamed, and explained the 'game' to him.

“I am not going to take this out of you. If you want it out, you will have to do it yourself. The base is heavy, but not so heavy that it can't be tipped over. I think that'd be your best chance.”

At this point Jack could do nothing but lie absolutely still, and hang on to consciousness.

“Anyhow,” the Master continued. “I'd better go. People to rule, rebels to execute. Busy, busy, busy. I'll come back tomorrow or the next day to see how you're doing. Tata for now.”

* * * * * * * * *

Ianto paced around the cell, something he'd been doing for hours. Tosh and Gwen were asleep in the next cell.

“Will you give it a rest,” groused Owen, “you're making me dizzy.”

“I'm worried about Jack,” explained Ianto.

Owen looked exasperated. “He's the only one of us NOT here locked in a cell, and he's the one you are worried about! You haven't even got a reason to think that he's in any danger.”

Ianto looked dubious. “I just can't get past what the Master said. He must know Jack, and that means Jack could be in a lot of danger.”

“Jack's in far less danger than anyone else, and you know it,” snapped Owen. “Now, will you keep still so I can get some sleep.”

Ianto complied, and lay down on the hard bench that served as a bed. But his mind continued to churn with worry for Jack. Unlike Owen, Ianto did not consider the fact that Jack could not be killed, as meaning he was not in danger. The Master and his guards were vicious, and, if they knew Jack was immortal, he would be in greater danger than anyone.

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The guards had left with the Master, leaving Jack alone in his agony. He had been in bad shape before this, and stood no chance of tipping the spike over. The Master had chosen the weight so that a healthy man would be able to move it, with difficulty. All he could do was lie there like a pinned butterfly, and slowly bleed out.

When he resurrected, of course he was still impaled. He couldn't help but scream out his pain, as he gasped back into life. The blood on the upper part of the spike had now dried, so he must have been dead for several hours. In desperation, he grabbed the spike with both hands, and tried to pull himself up. But, in the supine position he was in, he couldn't raise himself up more than about an inch, never mind the whole length. The Master was right, he would have to tip the spike over before he could push it through.

Jack knew that his best chance of escaping from the spike was when he had just resurrected. He was at his strongest then. So he didn't wait. He started rocking from side to side, trying to ignore the burning pain that each movement caused him. His movements increased the speed of the blood loss, which, combined with the pain, threatened to push him into unconsciousness. He made a final huge effort, causing the spike to rip inches across his abdomen. The spike teetered a bit, but did not fall, and Jack fell back exhausted by the effort. He died again soon after.

The next time Jack resurrected, he cried in despair. He had made his best effort to tip over the spike, and had failed. The Master was quite capable of leaving him in this agony forever. He bled out that time without making any effort to escape. The next time he did his best to ignore the pain and think logically about the situation. It was hard. Thinking while in that much pain, was practically impossible. But he had to,

Finally, he came up with a plan. He was in the centre of the room. There was nothing he could push on to help him tip the spike over. He had to get over to a wall. The nearest wall was more than 6 feet away. It was a long and difficult journey. He only shifted a few inches before dying, so it was many deaths later that he finally reached his destination. A wide trail of blood marked his route.

Jack had lost all track of time by the time he reached the wall. It could have been hours, but more likely days, depending on how long he stayed dead each time. Neither the Master, nor the guards had come back. At least not while he was alive. He supposed that they could monitor his progress remotely. The one useful thing about dying so often, was that he was not hungry or thirsty. He might have been in serious trouble with dehydration by now, if he had been alive the whole time.

As Jack waited to die once more, he made his plan. When he was at his strongest, he would lever himself into a quasi-sitting position with his back against the wall, and use the extra leverage to push the spike over sideways. This time it worked, and, as he was swallowed up by the blackness once again, he knew that a final effort would free him at last.

On the next revival, he grabbed hold of the spike and pushed it inch by inch through his abdomen, until there was nothing left to hold on to. He then had to grab it behind him, and pull as best he could. Fighting to remain conscious, he made a final desperate effort and he was free.

The next time he revived, after reliving the pain during his resurrection, he found himself mercifully free of pain. He lay in a heap next to the bloody spike, trembling in reaction, and just relished being whole again. He didn't get much chance to rest though, as the door opened and the Master entered.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING EXPLICIT VIOLENCE, NON-CON

Day 36

 

The Master, flanked by Stevens and Modine, looked down at Jack with disdain. “Well Freak. That took a lot longer than I expected. Five days you've been trying to escape from that spike. A very unimpressive performance. Do you think you could do it quicker next time?”

 

Shaking with fear, and terrified of having to go through that again, Jack pleaded with the Master to show some mercy, and not to make him repeat that.

 

The Master was exultant. This was going to be perfect. The weeks of abuse had left Jack with barely any fight in him. He now had Jack exactly where he wanted him. “That will depend on how well you behave for me. Now, on your knees and bow low,” the Master ordered imperiously.

 

Jack complied.

 

“I'm going to teach you the command submit now. Whenever I order you to submit, you will lay face down on the floor and spread your legs.”

 

“No,” Jack cried, knowing what a command like that would likely lead to.

 

So, there was a glimmer of resistance still in him, the Master mused, Time to play the trump card.

 

“The Master kicked him in the face, knocking him to sprawl on the ground. No one says no to me,” he snarled. “Tell you what then, how about I try the spike on one of your little friends, see how long they live. How about the welsh ex-cop, or your boy toy Ianto Jones.”

 

Jack froze in horror on hearing that. He had thought he was in a desperate situation already, but this made it ten times worse. “How do you know about them?” he demanded..

 

“Oh I've been watching you, and your little gang, for over a year. Since long before you ever met me. It's been fascinating. I know everything about them. Like how you like to shag Jones over your desk, and how you moon over the Cooper woman. Do you actually love either of them? They certainly don't think much of you running out on them.”

 

“Where are they?” Jack cried. “What have you done with them?”

 

“Oh, they are quite safe,” grinned the Master, “so far. Whether they remain that way depends on you. They are safely locked away in the cells at this very moment.”

 

“I don't believe you,” cried Jack desperately.

 

“You know, I thought you might say that, so I've come prepared,” hissed the Master. With a wave of his laser screwdriver the screen on the wall burst into life. A recording showed Ianto and Owen in one cell, and Gwen and Tosh in an adjoining one. The Master was speaking to them, though there was no sound.

 

“Don't you dare lay a hand on them,” shouted Jack.

 

“Oh, I dare,” sneered the Master, “but I won't, if you obey me. Now, what is it to be?”

 

Although Jack was terrified of what the Master would do to him if he agreed, he knew that, even if he resisted, the Master would do what he wanted anyway. Time Lords were a lot stronger than humans, and the Master had guards to back him up.

 

“All right, I'll do as you say. Just don't hurt them, any of them.”

 

The Master kicked him again, this time in the stomach, ”You'll do as I say, what?”

 

“I'll do as you say, Master!”

 

“That's better. Now submit.”

 

Shaking with humiliation and fear, Jack lay face down on the cold, hard, floor and spread his legs.

 

“Hands behind your back,” the Master ordered.

 

Jack obediently placed his hands behind him, in the small of his back. The Master grabbed them, pulled one wrist at a time up to his shoulder blades, and tied them together with a thin but strong chain. He then took the spare length of chain, and looped it twice around Jack's neck, before securing the end to his wrists. This arrangement left the chain leading from wrists to neck taut, and any movement of Jack's arms tightened the chain around his neck.

 

Satisfied with his arrangements, the Master dismissed the guards. When they had gone, he looked down at Jack's naked body, still covered in dried blood. He could feel the time vortex running through the man. He palmed himself through his trousers, murmuring, “oh yes, you look absolutely stunning like this.” He quickly divested himself of his clothes, and walked around Jack, displaying his erect, weeping, cock.

 

“On this occasion, Freak, I do not want you to fight me. You are going to lay there and take it, like a good whore. You know what will happen if you do fight me.”

 

Jack lay there, willing himself not to move, as the Master knelt between his thighs, shoved them as far apart as they would go, and rammed all the way in with one hard thrust. With no preparation, every thrust was agony and soon blood flowed. Jack bit his lip, and tried to hold back tears of humiliation and pain. It seemed to go on for hours.

 

With each jerk of his body, Jack's arms moved a little, and this had the effect of slowly tightening the chain round his neck. The Master was well aware of this, and was deliberately moving violently in order for that to happen. He began to whisper in Jack's ear, “I'm going to fuck you as you die Freak, and I'll still be in you when you revive. Shall we see how long I can last, and how many deaths that will be?”

 

Jack's vision was darkening by this time, and he was gasping for oxygen that he couldn't get. As he died, his muscles clenched around the Master, who shouted “Oh, yes!” but managed to hold off his orgasm. He was just as ecstatic when Jack resurrected a few minutes later. The next death followed quickly, as the chain was already tight around Jack's neck. The Master managed to last through several deaths, coming explosively as Jack resurrected for the sixth time.

 

After he orgasmed, the Master released the chain, and Jack dragged in lungfuls of air gratefully. The Master remained in him for a few minutes more, collapsed heavily across Jack's trembling back.

 

“Say thank you, Freak,” he ordered.

 

“Thank you Master,” gasped Jack.

 

“I'll say this, you're the best fuck I've ever had. I won't get tired of this in a hurry. The way the vortex surges through you when you resurrect is incredibly erotic.”

 

Jack blanched on hearing those words.

 

The Master looked at Jack, and the room, and turned his nose up at the blood and other fluids that covered them. “I think we need a cleaner.”


	5. Chapter 5

Day 37

Jack was left alone overnight, and he slept where the Master had left him. His wrists were still chained together, forcing his arms painfully upwards, although the end around his neck had been released.

The next morning, the two guards came in with Tish, who was carrying a bucket of water and a mop. She looked totally stunned at the scene in front of her.

“You are to clean up the prisoner, and this room,” the guards ordered her. “And make a good job of it. The Master will inspect your work before you leave. We'll come back and check on your progress in a couple of hours.”

Tish knew who Jack was. She had seen him briefly on the flight deck, just before the Toclafane arrived. She had never seen him die or resurrect, but she knew from the Doctor that he was immortal. The Doctor had been worrying about what had happened to him, with good reason as it turned out. She hurried over to him, with her water, and a cloth. She untied his wrists, and he groaned and moved his arms with great difficulty.

“Take it slowly, Tish advised, helping him into a sitting position. Here, I've got water. Do you need a drink?”

Jack hadn't had any water for many days, and gratefully drank as much as he was able. Tish then started to use the rest to clean the blood from his body. She was very gentle, as he was clearly traumatised. After initially tensing up, Jack relaxed into her touch. “The Doctor has been terribly worried about you,” she told him. “No one has had a clue where you were.”

“You're Martha's sister, aren't you?” queried Jack, “I saw you on the flight deck.”

“Yes, I'm Tish.”

“Can you get a message to the Doctor, about where I am? But please don't say anything about this,” Jack asked, indicating his body with a wave of his hand.

“But surely you want him to know that the Master is … hurting you?” asked Tish, unable to say the actual words for what the Master had obviously done. And as for what had gone on previously, she couldn't begin to guess, and didn't want to, but it clearly generated a lot of blood.

“No! There's nothing he could do about it, so it's better for him not to know. Promise me you won't tell him.”

Tish carried on washing him, and reluctantly agreed.

When Jack was clean, Tish helped him over to a part of the room which was not covered in blood. There was no sign of anything resembling a bed, where she could make him more comfortable. She then proceeded to mop and scrub the floor, to erase all traces of Jack's ordeal. There was a lot of blood, in a great swathe from the centre of the room to the wall next to a horrendous spiked object. Tish didn't even want to contemplate what that had been used for, but she cleaned it. There were other, older, bloodstains at various points around the room, mainly near sets of chains. At several points along a wooden beam, stains occurred, where blood had clearly dripped down the wall. These were a lot harder to shift. Although she successfully cleaned the wall, she couldn't remove the stains from the wood.

It took Tish several hours of hard work, and two trips with the guards to collect fresh water, to completely clean the room. Jack was grateful for a drink from her bucket when she returned with the water each time.

After Tish had finished, the Master and his guards returned. He inspected the room, and Jack, who flinched violently away from his touch, carefully. “Adequate,” he said eventually, to Tish's heartfelt relief. But, instead of sending her away, he walked over to her and took her chin in his hands.

“Now Tish, listen very carefully to what I have to say. You saw the state the Freak was in when you got here.”

Tish nodded.

“Well, this is my special secret room. I don't want anyone, except my two guards here and you, to know it exists, or that you've seen Handsome Jack. If you tell anyone anything about it, then dear old mum and dad will suffer what he did before you arrived. And they wouldn't survive it.

* * * * *

Tish walked quietly onto the flight deck, carrying fresh water in a dog bowl, and food, for the Doctor. She was more than usually nervous, though she was trying desperately not to let it show.

 

The Doctor staggered out of his tent to receive the food, and observed her carefully. His body might be slow and sluggish, but his mind was as keen as ever. He could tell immediately that something had changed, something was wrong. “Tish,” he whispered, “is something the matter?”

 

Tish practically dropped her tray at the question, and looked flustered. She had just come from the Master's hidden room, and what she really wanted to do was tell the Doctor that she had seen Jack. And, despite what Jack wanted, she wanted to tell the Doctor that he was being tortured by the Master. But the image of how he had looked, chained and covered in blood and semen, was burned into her brain. And she was sure he had died. She couldn't risk that happening to her parents.

 

“Oh,” she answered, “it's nothing, just the Master being his usual self.”

 

At that moment, the Master and his wife strolled onto the flight deck, music blaring from the loudspeakers.

 

Tish ducked her head, and took the opportunity to escape and head back down to her cell.

 

The Master grabbed the Doctor's wheelchair, and pushed him into it. “Having a cosy chat with young Miss Jones were we? You must tell me all about it.”

 

As usual the Doctor did not reply.

There were only two conversations that the Doctor wanted to have with the Master. The first was to persuade him to abandon his insane need for conquest, and the second was to find out what had happened to Jack. Choosing the one he thought he might have a small chance of making progress with, he spoke up. “When will you let me see Jack?”

The Master's usual response was to smirk and refuse to answer, but on this occasion he paused to consider. Then he announced, “oh, I think I'll be able to let you see him fairly soon.” And with that, he collected Lucy and they left the flight deck.


	6. Chapter 6

Day 38-45

 

Early one morning, the guards converged on the cell block in force. They unlocked all the cells, and stormed into each, dragging the prisoners off their bunks and slamming them into the walls, before cuffing them. Each prisoner, hands secured behind their back, was then pushed out of the cell by a guard. The Torchwood team, and six other prisoners, were marched through the cell block and up onto the outer deck of the Valiant, where they were lined up along a runway. It was freezing on the deck, and the prisoners shivered with cold and fear. They were kept there for half an hour before the Master arrived, flanked by four Toclafane. A cameraman followed some distance behind. And behind him, a guard pushed an old man in a wheelchair.

 

The Master walked up and down the row of prisoners, eyeing each one in turn. He showed no more interest in the Torchwood team than any of the other prisoners.

 

“Someone has sabotaged my Paris shipyard. Work has been set back weeks. I have not yet captured the guilty parties, though rest assured I will, and they will suffer. But such a deed cannot go unpunished, even for a few days, so I am going to make an example of one of you. The punishment will be broadcast on all channels.”

 

As he spoke, the Master continued to walk up and down the row of prisoners. All the prisoners avoided eye contact, not wanting to draw attention to themselves. Suddenly the Master spun around and grabbed Tosh by the hair, yanking her out of the line. She fell, and, with her arms secured behind her, was unable to stop herself slamming onto the deck. Ianto, Owen and Gwen screamed, and tried to get away from their guards to help her, but they were unable to get free. The Master yanked Tosh back up, and dragged her to the very edge of the deck. He held her there, with her feet scrabbling for purchase, leaning out over the edge of the deck seeing nothing but clouds below her. Tosh screamed in terror. The cameraman followed their every move.

 

“Should I let you drop?” the Master whispered, so only Tosh could hear.

 

“No, please!“ she cried.

 

The Master held her, leaning out over nothing, for what seemed to Tosh like hours. It was, in reality, only minutes before he pulled her back in, and threw her onto the deck, where she lay gasping and crying. “No, I have a better use for you and your friends,” he said quietly.

 

The Master then turned back to the line of prisoners, and pointed at a man who was trembling with terror. “That one,” he indicated to the Toclafane, who moved in on the unfortunate man, their blades extended and whirling. As they converged on him, his guard let go, to move out of the way. The Toclafane had barely touched the man, when he stepped too close to the edge and, screaming, plummeted over the side.

 

“Take them back to their cells,” ordered the Master, before he swept off the deck with his entourage.

 

 

* * * * * *

 

Gwen talked gently to the, still sobbing, Tosh, as the guard chivvied them along. Ianto and Owen followed behind, both wearing expressions of shock. This was the closest that one of their group had come to being murdered by Harold Saxon. Back in the cell block, all the remaining prisoners were returned to their cells and uncuffed, before the guards left.

 

Sitting back in their cell, Tosh was telling Gwen why the Master had not dropped her over the side. “He said that he had a better use for us,” she gasped between sobs.

 

Knowing the Master, that would mean something dire. Sleep was difficult to come by for any of them that night.

 

* * * * * *

 

Jack saw Tish a few more times over the next few days. She had been given the job of bringing him food, if you could call it that. It was a welcome change from the Master's guards. He was immensely grateful for her visits, and her gentle treatment of him when he was injured, which was most of the time. He also understood that she could not tell the Doctor or anyone else that she had seen him.

 

Jack was constantly worried about the welfare of his team, and the Doctor. And Tish was able to reassure him that they were alive and, as far as she knew, unharmed.

 

* * * * *

 

One morning, the Master breezed into the hidden room, alone. He came to a stop in front of Jack, who was chained to a wall. Jack tensed up.

 

“So Freak, you amaze me,” the Master mused.

 

“Is it my sparkling personality?” quipped Jack, trying not to flinch away.

 

“No, it's your ludicrous loyalty to your little gang,” answered the Master. “I saw the way they all mutinied, and murdered you, before they released Abbadon. I suppose I should have stepped in then, being the Minister of Defence and all, but it was fascinating to watch you deal with him.”

 

The Master paced around the room for a while. He appeared to be considering something. “You really owe them nothing,” he argued. “Yet, when I threaten them, you roll on your belly and let me do whatever I want to you. Why do you care what happens to them?”

 

“Loyalty is something you'd never understand,” said Jack vehemently.

 

“Oh, I understand it. I just don't understand why you feel it for those double crossing, so called friends of yours.”

 

Coming to a stop right in front of Jack, the Master continued. “I'm bored of our little games. I need something new, and I'd like to see how deep that loyalty to your team really runs. Over the last month and a half you have seen first hand exactly what I'm capable of.”

 

Jack shuddered.

 

“But it doesn't have to be that way,” the Master purred. “I have a proposition for you.”


	7. Chapter 7

Day 46-50

 

Jack stretched out on the soft bed, and savoured the feeling of being clean and pain free. The Master had shot him, to heal all his injuries, but then treated him well. He had allowed Jack to use his suite freely. Food and drink were to hand, and clean clothes, black jeans and a black silk shirt, were laid out. Jack had spent an hour in the massive bath, then used the Master's luxury towels, and finally flopped into the king sized bed (alone). He was exhausted after the trauma of the previous weeks, and wanted nothing more than to sleep for days. The Master let him do so, wanting him back to full vitality.

 

* * * * * * *

 

Apart from the delivery of their food and water, the Torchwood team were left alone for several days after the events on the outer deck. They were extremely bored by this point, though, as Tosh pointed out, being bored was a blessing on the Valiant. Having seen what was happening to some of the other prisoners, anything else would most likely be a nightmare.

 

When the guards did come to escort them to the flight deck, it was thankfully not the notoriously sadistic Stevens and Modine. Even so, it was with considerable trepidation that they followed. When they arrived on the flight deck, it seemed to be deserted. They stood there for several minutes, wondering why they had been taken there. The guards had stationed themselves around the room, and looked set to stay for a while.

 

To their surprise, an old man emerged from a tatty tent near the flight deck stairs. They recognised him, as the man in the wheelchair, that they had seen when the Master nearly threw Tosh off the Valiant. He was obviously a prisoner. He gazed at the four grimy, jeans clad, people standing on the flight deck, clearly wondering who they were.

 

Seeing as the guards were showing no signs of interfering with them, or the old man, Gwen walked up to him. “Hello, I'm Gwen Cooper, who are you?”

 

“Ah, of course,” the old man replied, and, nodding towards the others, said, “and you must be Toshiko Sato, Owen Harper and Ianto Jones.”

 

Surprised, Gwen replied, “yes, that's right, how did you know?”

 

“You're Jack's friends.”

 

“You know Jack!” Ianto quickly interrupted, “Have you seen him? Do you know where he is? Is he ok?”

 

The Doctor looked at Ianto, sympathetically. It was obvious that the young man cared a lot about Jack. “I do know him, and I think he is aboard the Valiant. He certainly was when the Master first took over. But he hasn't let me see Jack, so I don't know if he is alright,” the Doctor finished sadly. “I am very worried about him.”

 

“Who are you?” demanded Gwen. “And how do you know Jack?”

 

“I'm the Doctor,” he explained, “Jack might have talked about me.”

 

Ianto was taken aback, “You're the one Jack ran off with when he left us!” He grimaced and then added under his breath, “I thought you'd be younger, and ... fitter.”

 

At that moment, music blared from the loudspeakers. The guards straightened to attention. They knew that this heralded the Master's approach.

 

The Torchwood team gasped in disbelief as the Master came onto the flight deck, with Jack flanking him. Jack, who was not restrained or under any threat, who appeared to be freely operating. He was even armed. A Toclafane bobbed along behind them.

 

The Master smiled happily at them. “I thought you'd like to meet my new assistant. I believe you already know each other. Jack here has agreed to work for me.”

 

“No fucking way,” breathed Owen.

 

“That's not true,” shouted Ianto. “Jack would never work for you.”

 

As it looked as if the Torchwood team were about to get up close and personal with the Master and Jack, the Master signaled to the guards who restrained them easily.

 

“Now, now, kiddies,” the Master smirked, “if you don't believe me, ask your erstwhile boss yourselves.”

 

As one, the team looked at Jack. It was Gwen who spoke, “tell us it's not true, Jack.”

 

Jack looked guilty. “It is true Gwen,” he admitted.

 

“But why?”

 

“It's in my best interests to do so,” was Jack's succinct reply.

 

“I don't believe it,” announced Tosh, though, judging by the looks the others were throwing Jack, she was in a minority. Even the Doctor looked as if he believed what Jack had said. Ianto was the only one who looked unconvinced.

 

“I think they need a bit more convincing, don't you?” the Master asked Jack, who nodded.

 

* * * * *

 

The guards dragged a female prisoner onto the deck. Two Toclafane accompanied them. She was thrown to her knees in front of the Master. She had obviously been cruelly beaten. Her long, dark, hair only partially hid the bruises on her face.

 

“This,” declaimed the Master, “is the leader of the Paris group of troublemakers, that I have had my Toclafane hunt down. The rest of her sorry group are dead. And now she is going to join them.”

 

He motioned to Jack, who stepped forward and unholstered his gun.

 

The Torchwood team, still restrained by their guards, were shocked and Tosh shouted out, “Jack, what are you doing?”

 

Jack just ignored her, and, walking calmly towards the woman, raised his gun and shot her in the head. She died instantaneously, her body slumping bonelessly to the floor.

 

As she fell, Owen yelled out “You bastard,” which he could have been applying to the Master, or Jack, or both. Gwen and Tosh were stunned into silence and Ianto just looked ill.

 

“Take them back to the cells,” the Master ordered. Jack, and the guards who originally brought them up from the cells, escorted them back down. There was a stony silence from the team all the way.

 

 

* * * * *

 

Once the team were back in their cells, Jack dismissed the guards. Other than the ever present Toclafane, who patrolled the cell block, Jack was alone with his team.

 

 

“What happened to loyalty?” snapped Owen.

 

 

“What right have you to preach about loyalty to me?” retorted Jack, staring at Owen. “You murdered me, not knowing it wouldn't be permanent.” He turned to Ianto, “you played me, and hid a cyberman in my home, as well as supporting Owen in betraying me. Gwen, you led them in opening the rift, which led to me having to sacrifice myself yet again. Even you supported them, Tosh. I don't think any of you can honestly believe that you deserve my loyalty.”

 

They all looked guilty at this. “But what about the Doctor?” argued Ianto. ”You left us, to run off after him. Without a word. You must have some loyalty to him.”

 

“I might have,” Jack answered bitterly. “If he hadn't tried to get away from me, before I could get to him and the TARDIS. If he hadn't told me he abandoned me deliberately, on a space station with only corpses for company, If he hadn't called me WRONG.”

 

Jack stopped to compose himself for a moment, then continued. “He doesn't deserve my loyalty either.”

 

“That still doesn't excuse you siding with the Master,” argued Gwen, “you are betraying all of humanity, not just the Doctor and us.”

 

“I am tired of being responsible for the world,” Jack yelled. For once I'm going to do what's best for me. Can you imagine what the Master could do to me, if I refused to work for him?”

 

“You're just a coward,” sneered Owen scathingly.

 

“That's easy for you to say, you can only die once, Owen. I don't have that luxury.”

 

With that, Jack turned and left the cell block, leaving the team to cope with their shock and sense of betrayal as best they could.


	8. Chapter 8

Day 50-55

Followed at a distance by one of the Toclafane, Jack walked back to the Master's suite and knocked. In moments the Master appeared at the door, looking extremely happy and welcoming him inside. He locked the suite door behind Jack, and motioned for him to follow him into the hidden room.

 

Once in there, he clapped slowly.“That was excellent, Jack. A truly convincing performance. If I didn't know better, I'd believe that you really were working for me.”

 

Standing in the centre of the secret room, Jack faced the Master. Beyond him, he could see the door that, unusually, the Master had failed to close. He was emotionally drained from the confrontation with his team, and dreading whatever the Master would do next.

 

To convince the others that he now worked for the Master, Jack had had to use all his considerable willpower to reign in his Pavlovian response to him. For weeks he had been conditioned to be terrified by the Master's, or Stevens and Modine's presence, and now he was expected to walk around the Valiant with them, without showing a flicker of fear. It had been very hard to do. And he had managed it by thinking over and over, they will not hurt you here, they will not hurt you here. Bu,t back in the hidden room, that mantra no longer applied. Jack's control was cracking and he began to shake.

 

“I feel like celebrating, Freak,” leered the Master. “And you are what I want to celebrate with.” He paused, then added, “You are currently completely healthy and fit?”

 

Jack nodded warily, his heart sinking as his vain hope of being left unharmed for the night receded.

 

The Master smiled malevolently, “I am going to have you, but this time I want you to fight. And, just to make it interesting, I will give you an incentive.” He nodded over at the open door. “If you get out of that door, I won't do it. I'll leave you alone for the whole night.”

 

The Master grinned with anticipation, and waited for Jack to try and get past him.

 

Jack never stood a chance.

 

* * * * * *

 

The morning following Jack's unveiling as the Master's assistant, Tish was surprised to be ordered to the hidden room to clean. She had heard about Jack on the ship's grapevine, and was probably one of the few people on the ship who did not blame him for his actions. She was certainly the only one who knew, first hand, the awful alternative that awaited him.

 

When she reached the Master's suite, she was escorted through into the hidden room by Stevens and Modine, as usual. With the Master and Jack's new arrangement, she expected a routine cleaning job, rather than those she usually coped with in that room. But, as she entered, she came to a dead halt in shock, as she took in the scene before her.

 

It was as bad as ever. Jack lay, face down and naked, on the floor. His black shirt was ripped, and laying over in the corner of the room. His rest of his clothes lay a few feet from him. There wasn't much blood, but he was covered in bruises, and ten deep bloody furrows, obviously made by finger nails, marred his back from shoulder to waist. Tish hurried over to him, and gently turned him over. It was worse on the front. She could barely tell that it was Jack, his face was bruised and swollen, with one eye swollen shut. Something was clearly broken. More furrows marred his chest and abdomen, and his right side was one massive bruise. Hand print shaped bruises were obvious on his thighs. He was only semi-conscious.

 

Totally confused by this turn of events, Tish fetched her water and, raising Jack up, tried to give him a drink. He rallied somewhat as she tried, and she was able to get a trickle of water between his swollen lips. “What happened?” asked Tish in disbelief. “I thought that he wouldn't hurt you anymore, if you were working for him. Did he go back on your arrangement ?”

 

Jack could only talk with difficulty, “Oh no, the Master is a man of his word. He has kept to his end of the bargain.”

 

“Then why has he done this?”

 

“It's his new game. He wants to see what it would take to get me to betray my friends. He offered me two choices. He'd leave me alone, stop torturing and killing me, and all I had to do was agree for him to torture my friends instead. Or I had to convince everyone that I now work for him, and things would carry on exactly as before in this room.”

 

Horrified, Tish exclaimed, “You could just refuse to do either!”

 

No, if I don't convince everyone, he'll torture all my team as well as me. I can't let that happen. And you mustn't give me away. He's not finished with this game yet. He wants them to carry on believing it.

 

“Well no one will believe it if you end up looking like this.”

 

Jack grimaced bitterly, “at least I'll get a bit of respite between beatings now. He has to get me fit for my public appearances.”

 

Giving Jack a bit more water, Tish laid him down again and washed him gently. She got him as comfortable as was possible on the hard floor, then turned her attention to the room. The guards came for her as she was finishing up, and escorted her back to her other duties.

 

 

* * * * *

 

That night, Tish, Francine and Clive were locked into their cell. As they had done the previous night, Francine and Clive were discussing Jack. The day before, Tish had been sympathetic to Jack, but she had believed he was working for the Master. This time however Tish's attitude to their conversation was completely different.

 

“How can he work for the Master?” demanded Francine.

 

“Mum, you work for the Master,” Tish pointed out. “We all do.”

 

“But we don't do it willingly,” Francine exclaimed, “and we don't kill for him!”

 

“You don't know that he's willing,” argued Tish.

 

“He's carrying a bloody gun, so obviously the Master trusts him,” interjected Clive angrily.

 

“He's the Doctor's friend, and Martha's,” Tish pointed out, “and he was part of Torchwood. They are all enemies of the Master.”

 

“Well, from what I've seen of Torchwood's reaction, they believe he's changed sides. And they know him better than anyone, retorted Clive.”

 

Knowing what she did, but being unable to say anything about it, meant that Tish was unable to properly defend Jack. So she ended up feebly arguing, “We shouldn't judge without knowing all the facts.”

 

Francine just snorted dismissively.

 

* * * * *

 

 

A few days later the Master and Jack walked onto the flight deck. A cluster of Toclafane followed behind them, zooming around happily. Jack was not carrying a gun on this occasion.

 

Francine was cleaning the room, but the Doctor was nowhere in sight when they entered, so the Master called out. “Come out, come out wherever you are, Doctor.”

 

There was no response, so the Master gestured to Jack to fetch him out of the tent.

 

The Doctor was sleeping, as he did so often in his aged body. Jack grabbed him by the arm, and dragged him out before he had a chance to react. He deposited the Doctor, now awake, on his feet right in front of the Master.

 

“And, how are you today, Doctor?” asked the Master politely. “Feeling fit, I hope.”

 

He got no response from the Doctor.

 

“No? Oh that's right, age is a bit of a downer isn't it. But I have brought some good news. I've had enough of your ugly old face scowling at me. What would you say to being young again?”

 

“I'd say, what is the catch?” the Doctor replied.

 

“Oh, you're so suspicious!” grinned the Master. I just fancy a spot of lunch with an old friend, well not as old as you look now, but an old, young-looking, friend. And, if you are really good, I might leave you young for a while.”

 

He pulled out his laser screwdriver, and, aiming it at the Doctor, pressed the button. The Doctor fell to the floor screaming and writhing, while the Master and Jack watched impassively. Francine put her hands to her mouth in shock, and, as soon as the Master was finished, she rushed over to help the Doctor.

 

With Francine's help, the Doctor managed to get to a chair and sit down at the table. He was weak and trembling.

 

“Excellent,” announced the Master. “Francine, bring us lunch. Jack, go fetch those components I told you about, and take them back to my suite. Wait for me there.”

 

“Yes sir,” said Jack and Francine simultaneously, hurrying to comply.

 

As they waited for Francine to return with their lunch, the Doctor's trembling subsided, and he took his chance to ask about Jack's sudden new status. With Jack's past as a conman, out only for himself, the Doctor was not too surprised at his actions. In fact he was, if anything, relieved, as it meant that Jack would not be hurt.

 

“How did you convince him to go along with you?” he asked casually.

 

“Oh it was easy,” smiled the Master. “I merely pointed out the alternatives.”

 

“I suppose I can't blame him,” the Doctor mused.. “You could have made his life hell.”

 

“Indeed,” the Master agreed, with a smirk.

 

At that moment Francine returned with the starter, of what would be a sumptuous three course meal. The Doctor, who was not used to receiving food in any reasonable quantity, could only pick at the food, despite its high quality.

 

The Master chatted amiably, about old times on Gallifrey, throughout the meal. If the Doctor did not know he was a crazed megalomaniac, he could have believed that he was at a civilised, if small, dinner party. There was even wine, of a very good vintage.

 

As Francine cleared away the dessert plates, the Doctor brought up the subject he had been itching to mention for the whole meal.

 

“Why don't we leave Earth, and travel in the TARDIS? Just you and me. There's a whole universe out there to explore. You don't need Earth, or these ideas of conquering others.”

 

The Master pushed back his chair abruptly, so hard that it crashed to the floor behind him. Francine jerked in fright, and, grabbing her tray, scurried out of the room as quickly as she could.

 

Realising that he had miscalculated in bringing the subject up, the Doctor braced himself for the Master's reaction.

 

It wasn't long in coming.

 

The Master lashed out with his fist, knocking the Doctor out of his chair to the floor. “How dare you bring that up again! Time after time I have told you that I will not leave Earth, or give up my plans. When are you going to learn?”

 

Calming slightly, he stopped shouting, but added, “You've ruined a wonderful meal now, and that has made me very unhappy. I think it's time your little treat was over.” As he spoke, he pulled out his laser screwdriver, activated it, and then watched with academic interest as the Doctor screamed.

 

He walked off the flight deck when the Doctor lay gasping in pain on the deck, back to his aged self.


	9. Chapter 9

Day 115-120

 

 

Jack walked towards the cell block from the kitchens. He was alone. In the two months that he had been acting as the Master's assistant, the precautions that the Master took to ensure his good behaviour had been decreased. The Master was now so sure of Jack's continued obedience, that he was no longer escorted by Toclafane, or Stevens and Modine, everywhere he went. It was only when he was armed, or in a sensitive area, that they still stayed close,. The Master did not trust that Jack might not, in desperation, use his one bullet to kill him, despite the consequences.

 

Jack was sent out of the hidden room every few days, to keep up the pretense that he worked for the Master. All the Valiant staff, apart from Stevens and Modine, thought that to be true, as did all the prisoners. The Toclafane, however, all knew the real situation, and were on high alert, ready to slaughter Jack if he deviated from his orders. With the lives of his team hanging on his every move, Jack took care not to do anything to anger them.

 

The only bright point in his new situation, was that the Master had to cease his torture long enough for Jack to recover sufficiently to be seen out in public. For his first appearance, when he told his team, and the Doctor, that he now worked for the Master, he had been allowed several days to recover in relative luxury. The Master wanted no mistakes on that occasion. Since then, however, he was merely killed, to remove any injuries, ordered to clean himself up, and sent out to do whatever the Master required of him in public. At least this meant that he got a shower every few days, for which he was extremely grateful.

 

This bright point was more than outweighed in Jack's mind by his emotional pain, caused by the way the team, and particularly Ianto, now treated him. Intellectually, he knew that he couldn't blame them, they were merely reacting to his charade. But it still hurt when they insulted him, and made it clear they felt nothing but hatred and contempt for him. The extent of their abuse varied from stony silence, at best, to diatribes of hatred and invective.

 

For a while, after he first came out as the Master's assistant, Ianto and Tosh watched him carefully, seeming to look for some hint or sign that all was not as it appeared to be. But he could give no such sign, and first Tosh, and then eventually Ianto gave up looking. Owen and Gwen had gone in with the verbal knives from day one. Tosh now ignored him.

 

Though it had taken Ianto longer than the others to truly believe that he had betrayed them, when he believed it, he became worse than the others. His hatred and disdain were not hidden. Jack supposed that the hurt Ianto felt, due to Jack's perceived betrayal, was more acute than the others because of what they had shared. He was therefore lashing out more strongly. And equally, Jack was hurt more by his hatred, than by the others.

 

Only the Doctor treated him with any understanding. But, even then, it hurt to know that the Doctor so easily believed that he would betray his friends and humanity to save himself. Tish of course, who knew everything, was a godsend to him, the only friend he had. He desperately hoped that the Master would continue to send her to clean. He couldn't bear the thought of losing her.

 

 

Jack ceased his musing as he approached the cell block. He steeled himself mentally, and entered. He hoped that they would be asleep, and he could quietly leave the food and escape before they realised he was there. A few times he had come upon the team unaware. He would get a brief glimpse of Ianto, at peace, to savour, before the inevitable sneer at his presence, his expression turned to hate. But luck was not with him today.

 

“Oh look, it's the Master's lapdog,“ snapped Owen. “Still decked out in black, I see. All you need is a black hat.”

 

Jack ignored him.

 

“Or, should I use some other descriptions,” Owen continued. “How about traitor, quisling, or collaborator. That's a good one,” he spat.

 

“Judas,” Ianto sneered. “How much information have you given him to help enslave humanity, how much are you helping him?”

 

Jack knew that he couldn't defend himself. What the Toclafane saw, the Master saw, and they were always present in the cell block.

 

“You know,” continued Ianto, “one day he'll realise that you aren't useful anymore, and then I wonder what he'll do with you.” His expression turned to pure malice. “I hope he hurts you.”

 

Jack's facade nearly cracked at that. He bore the pain and degradation that the Master put him through everyday, for Ianto and the others. But it was so hard, sacrificing himself everyday for people who looked on him with only contempt. It ate away at his soul. He didn't know how long he could continue. Feeling a panic attack looming, Jack hurriedly thrust the food through the slots in their cells, and left as quickly as he could.

 

* * * * *

 

On the outskirts of Cirencester, in the Cotswolds, three men crouched among the ruins. They were on a mission to find food for the rebel group based near there. It was the dark of the moon, so they could barely be seen by each other, never mind any Toclafane. It was only the light from their torches that could give them away. They were in what had been an affluent suburb, and were moving house to house collecting any tins or bottles of food and drink that they could find. Medicines were also collected. Once, some of their group had targeted a Tesco warehouse to find food. That was a major mistake, as the Toclafane staked out all the places with abundant supplies. No one returned from that foray.

 

Eventually, their leader ordered a return to base and, grateful that their mission had gone so well, they beat a hasty retreat.

 

* * * *

 

As he frequently did, when acting as the Master's assistant, Jack had been sent to collect items from the store. The staff there knew him and, having no reason to think him a security risk, were happy to leave him in the stores alone, while they fetched the items. This had happened several times, but Jack had never dared to take advantage of it. He had seen things that he could use but, even though there were no Toclafane present and no cameras, he had always backed out of stealing them. He knew what would happen to his friends if he was caught.

 

However, having seen what was lying around on a few occasions, Jack had come up with an idea. With patience, his 51st century knowledge, and some luck, he should be able to steal enough components to build an EMP device. But he needed the courage to take the first step.

 

On this occasion, there were two items that he wanted. They were tiny, easy to hide. Heart in his mouth, he performed a quick sleight of hand while the staff were out of view. Half expecting hordes of Toclafane to descend on him at any moment, he completed his errand and left the store. There was no way he would be able to hide anything in the hidden room, so he headed for the guards' bathroom and, once inside a cubicle, he hid his components behind a ceiling panel. Jack hoped that the guards' bathroom was the last place that anyone would search, looking for illicit items.

 

Knowing that the Master expected him back quickly, Jack then headed back to the Master's suite, back to whatever sadistic game the Master wanted to play this time.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning. Explicit violence, dub con

Day 130-136

 

The Master practically bounced into the hidden room late one afternoon. “Guess what, Freak. We're going to make a home movie. I thought your friends would like to see a romantic interlude between us.”

 

Jack was taken aback by this. Horror shot through him. It was something that had never occurred to him that the Master would want. And the very last thing that Jack wanted, was for his friends to witness any of his sexual encounters with the Master. They were humiliating, horrendous experiences. And even if they weren't, what would it do to Ianto, and indeed the others, to see him like that.

 

But the Master hadn't finished. “Oh yes, I want them to see how close we are. How mutually satisfying our sexual encounters are.”

 

Hearing this, Jack began to panic, and yanked on his chains. He had no choice, other than to go along with whatever the Master wanted, but there was a very obvious problem. In all the, many, times that the Master had used him for sex, Jack had never become aroused. As he was usually in excruciating pain, terrified, and often dying, encounters with the Master were not conducive to arousal.

 

Beaming with happiness, as if he were about to have a romantic encounter with his genuine lover, the Master explained more. “Everything's set in my suite, just let me check you over. I don't want people to think I don't look after you.” The Master walked around Jack, examining him, and frowned. “There's a few too many bruises there, I think we'd better fix them.” He walked to the equipment cupboard, pulled out a length of wire and a thick wooden stick. Passing the wire around Jack's throat, he attached both ends to the stick. “Not too tight, I hope,” he jeered. “It soon will be.” Then he started to rotate the stick, tightening the wire without having it cutting into his hands in the process.

 

Jack thrashed as the garrote cut into his neck and cut off his air. He tried not to struggle, but his body would not give in. Blood was flowing freely down his neck before he succumbed to the strangulation.

 

He revived lying in a heap on the floor. The Master was standing over him. “Get cleaned up and dressed,” he ordered.

 

Once that was done, Jack stood before the Master awaiting his orders.

 

“Listen carefully, Freak. I want you to come into my bedroom. We will both be fully dressed. You will treat me as a lover, and act accordingly. I will not hurt you. We will end up in bed, and you will encourage me to fuck you. You will get it up, to put it crudely, and participate fully.”

 

Jack swallowed. Although it was the last thing he wanted, he could act as a lover, and quash his fear and instinctive reaction to the Master. He could even pretend to encourage him, but how the hell was he to achieve an erection. That was not under his conscious control, and no way was it going to happen naturally.

 

As he was ordered, Jack entered the Master's bedroom. He approached the Master, and kissed him passionately. The Master reciprocated, and began to undress Jack. Taking his cue, Jack pushed the Master's jacket off and began to undo his shirt. He couldn't help shaking, as he knew the whole scenario would go wrong when he failed to get aroused.

 

 

The Master had now removed Jack's shirt, and was undoing his trousers. Hands were wandering everywhere, and Jack dutifully participated. Trembling, he undid the Master's belt and pushed down his trousers. He desperately hoped that, if he did enough, the Master would forgive any physical lapse. In an attempt at distraction, he knelt in front of the Master and swallowed him whole. This met with a groan of approval, but after a couple of minutes the Master pulled him up and pushed him on his back onto the bed. He pulled Jack's black jeans off in one movement, leaving him naked. Underwear was not deemed necessary for Jack. Immediately the extent of Jack's lapse was revealed. He was totally limp. With his face hidden from the camera, the Master allowed his fury to show. This did nothing for any hope Jack might have had for a physical response, as he quailed before him. Rubbing his hand over Jack's member, but getting no response, the Master's fury boiled over. He was livid. And he abandoned any pretense of Jack being his willing lover.

 

“So,” he snarled, “the famous sex machine, Captain Jack Harkness. I've heard your stories. You can do it with men, women, any aliens going, tentacles or not, but you can't get it up for me.”

 

He grabbed Jack by the hair, and pulled him halfway off the bed. Then, throwing him back down, this time on his belly, he reached for the pile of his clothes, drawing the leather belt out. Wrapping one end around his hand he lashed out and struck Jack across the back with all his, Gallifreyan, strength. The leather strip left a wide welt across Jack's back, and the ornate buckle tore into his flesh. In his anger the Master let loose, landing blow after blow on Jack's unresisting form. Blood arced across the room on each upstroke of the belt.

 

All Jack could do was grip the bars on the brass headboard, and take it.

 

The Master didn't even slow down until Jack's back was shredded, and he was unconscious. Blood covered the duvet, and spattered the carpet and walls.

 

Finally calming down from his fury, the Master threw down the belt in disgust. He eyed the devastation that was his bedroom with distaste. Activating his intercom, he ordered Stevens and Modine to send Tish down to clean up. Ignoring his own blood spattered state, he pulled on a robe and headed out of the suite towards Lucy's quarters.

 

* * * * *

 

 

Tish arrived with Stevens and Modine, and gazed at the Master's bedroom with horror. Jack was a bloody mess, lying on the king sized bed.. The bed itself was saturated with blood, and the carpet and wallpaper were like a modern art exhibition. Pushing down her reaction, something she had plenty of practice doing, Tish turned to practical matters. It would be worse for all of them if this did not get sorted.

 

“There's no way I can clean this,” she said to Stevens and Modine. “You need to get someone to get a new carpet, new wallpaper and a new bed!”

 

Even Stevens and Modine were scared of the Master, and Modine rushed off to sort that out, leaving Stevens to guard Jack and Tish.

 

“We have to get Jack out of here, and back into his room,” said Tish.

 

Jack had regained consciousness, but was totally incapable of moving. He was moaning softly. Tish brushed his hair gently out of his eyes. “Jack. We're going to have to move you. I'm sorry but it's bound to hurt you.”

 

Jack nodded weakly and closed his eyes.

 

Tish and Stevens took one end of the duvet each and lifted it, with Jack, and carried him into the hidden room. Jack screamed as they moved him. Tish was trying to be gentle, but Stevens had no such compunction. They left him on the floor on the duvet.

 

“I have to go clean up in there now,” Tish told Jack. “I'll be back in to see you before I go.” She knew there was nothing she could do for him, the Master never allowed Jack any medical treatment. Dying was the only way his injuries were healed. But she hoped that kind words, from someone who cared, would bring him some comfort.

 

* * * * *

 

After Tish left, Jack was left alone. His injuries were serious, but not immediately life threatening. He died of dehydration, exacerbated by blood loss, after three days.

 

* * * *

 

Jack did not struggle as Stevens and Modine hauled him over to the chains dangling from the ceiling. Securing his wrists in the manacles, they pulled on the chains, raising Jack off the floor by about six inches. He was naked, but clean and injury free.

 

The Master walked towards Jack, holding a syringe casually.

 

Waving the syringe in front of Jack's face, the Master explained. “After your abysmal failure last time, I thought you might need a bit of help.” He pushed the needle into Jack's arm, and pressed the plunger. “We'll leave that to take effect for an hour or so, then you can join me in the bedroom. I'll be waiting,” he called coquettishly as he left the room.

 

It took fifteen minutes for Jack to feel the first effects. They were subtle at first, just an itching feeling under his skin, and a slight fever. As time passed, the effects increased. After an hour he was achingly hard, hot, and unable to think clearly. He was desperate for friction but, chained as he was, he could do nothing to ease his craving. After two hours he was writhing in his chains, desperate for touch, and practically incoherent with need. Pheromones were pouring off him in waves.

 

When Modine came to free him from the chains, Jack practically threw himself at the man, doing his utmost to rut against him. Modine just laughed and whispered, “I'd love to, but you have a prior engagement.” Seeing that Jack was incapable of understanding orders, Modine dragged him into the Master's bedroom.

 

The Master lay on the bed, clad in a black silk dressing gown. When Jack saw him, obviously available, he forgot Modine and headed straight for the Master. Heedless of cameras, or the fact that this was his long time torturer, he grabbed the edges of the Master's dressing gown and pulled it wide open. The Master wore nothing beneath the gown. He was erect, and in seconds Jack had engulfed the Master to the root in his hot, wet, mouth. As he deep throated the Master, Jack ground his hips into the bed. The Master threw his head back, overcome by the pleasure, feigned or genuine no one could say. But Jack was an expert at this, and even in his incoherent state he had lost none of his skill. Not wanting his show to end too soon, the Master pulled Jack's head up by his hair.

 

Jack whimpered, devastated at the loss. Gazing at the Master with glazed eyes, he began to beg. “Please, I need …, please, touch me, fuck me.”

 

The Master grinned, “since you ask so nicely, I will.” He pulled Jack fully on to the bed, pushed him down on his back and, with barely any preparation, entered him. Letting his weight settle on Jack, so that Jack could feel the friction as the Master fucked him, he began to thrust. Finally getting what he wanted, Jack cried out in ecstasy, shouting out his pleasure as he came. But the drug was not done with him, and desperately he encouraged the Master to take him again and again. After several hours the Master had had enough. Sated and exhausted, he shoved Jack off the bed. Calling Stevens and Modine, he ordered them to return Jack to the hidden room, and chain him up again. He then slept as Jack screamed and cried in the soundproofed room, still desperate for release but unable to achieve it again.

 

* * * * *

 

Hours later the Master woke, and wandered in to the hidden room. Jack was no longer screaming, but his breathing was harsh and pained.

 

“Oh, that looks painful,” he said, sounding sympathetic as he gazed at Jack's erection. “Would you like me to do something about it?”

 

“Please,” croaked Jack, his voice raspy from too much screaming. “Help me.”

 

The Master palmed Jack's erection, and Jack, desperate for the contact, pushed into his hand, even though it was agony to do so. But, removing his hand abruptly, the Master laughed and said “Sorry, I have to go wind up an old man. But, tell you what, I'll let you do it yourself. But we can't make it too easy, can we?” He moved to one of the cabinets, took out a metal bar, and hit Jack in the left knee with it. Past the point of screaming, Jack just groaned. The Master then released him from the chains, and he fell to the floor. Ignoring his shattered knee, Jack grabbed his erection and started to stroke.

 

“Ah, ah, not yet.” smiled the Master. And, flipping Jack onto his belly, he pressed his right hand flat to the floor and smashed it with the bar. He then did the same to the left.

 

“There you go. That should make it more interesting.”

 

He paused on his way out of the room and added, “By the way, I checked out our movie. It's not very convincing. Fun though it was, it's too obvious that you were, 'under the influence', shall we say. So we'll have to have another go sometime. Don't worry I'll think of something to make it work.”

 

* * * * *

 

The Master sauntered onto the flight deck at 2am, wearing nothing but his dressing gown. He went over to the Doctor's tent, and called him out.

 

The Doctor emerged slowly.

 

“Guess what, gramps,” the Master asked excitedly.

 

“I don't need to guess,” replied the Doctor, “I can smell him on you.”

 

“Oh, sorry, yes. I should have showered before I came. But I was too excited.” The Master was grinning with glee. “Those 51st century pheromones, who could resist them.”

 

The Doctor merely looked at him, pointedly.

 

“Oh, of course. You can,” continued the Master, losing none of his enthusiasm. “He carried quite a torch for you, you know. You broke his heart when you abandoned him, and when he met you again. But then, you think he is wrong.”

 

“He is wrong,” replied the Doctor. “You must be able to sense it. He's … like the sun. It hurts to look at him.”

 

“But it's also beautiful,” argued the Master. You really don't know what you are missing. Fucking the time vortex is exquisite.” Then he added unequivocally, “You didn't want him, he's mine now.”

 

“Yes. Indeed he is,” the Doctor agreed. He waved his hand at the Masters deshabille. “Jack always was keen to try new species. I'm amazed the two of you waited this long.”


	11. Chapter 11

Day 140-143

 

The Master had spent a happy hour or so, carving Jack up with an ornate knife. He had finally had enough, and, wanting Jack to visit his team in the cells, he finished up by stabbing him in the abdomen and dragging the knife several inches upwards.

 

Jack could only watch, as his blood and guts flooded out to pool on the floor. The Master stepped smartly backwards, to protect his shoes. He walked around the mess to the chains on Jack's wrists, and released them one by one, letting Jack fall to the floor. He was practically covered, head to toe, in blood.

“When you've done with dying,” the Master ordered, “go clean yourself up. I want you fit to be seen out.”

He then left, leaving the door to his suite open.

It was two hours before Jack revived. Wearily, he dragged himself to his feet, and staggered into the Master's bathroom. He never knew how long the Master would give him to recover and clean up, so he hurried. On this occasion, the Master was back before he was even dry.

The Master gazed at Jack, as he stood dripping in the bathroom. “Get dry,” he ordered, “and come back into your room. Don't bother getting dressed yet.”

Trembling, Jack did as he was ordered, panicking that things were not playing out the way they usually did. Naked, he walked hesitantly into the hidden room, to find that the Master had adjusted the chains by the wall.

“Come here.”

Jack did so.

“Face the wall, and stretch out your arms.”

The Master secured Jack, with his arms outstretched so far that he was pressed up against the wall. “Right, now hold still. You looked so good earlier that I thought it was a shame not to do a bit more decoration. And if I make a mistake, I'll have to kill you and start again.”

Jack steeled himself, as the Master picked up the knife again, and began carving an intricate pattern into his back. It took several minutes, then the Master stepped back to admire his work. “Would you like to know what it is?” he asked.

Obligated to ask, Jack said “Yes Master.”

“Old, high, Gallifreyan script. It says Freak. It suits you, I think you should keep it for a while.”

“But, the others,” Jack argued, “when I visit the cells. They'll notice.”

“Oh, no. It's only on your back, it won't show up. Why do you think I gave you black clothes. They don't show the blood. And you'll just have to act normally, as if it wasn't there, won't you,” continued the Master with glee. “I've been very impressed with your acting skills. I'm sure you can do it.”

He released Jack from the chains, and let him step away from the wall.

“Get dressed.”

Jack did so, wincing as each movement of his arms made his back burn with pain. Fortunately, or not, he was used to pain, and he was able to push it aside and ignore it. He couldn't let anyone see that he was hurt.

* * * *

Jack's first stop was at the stores, and he was in luck for once. Something he needed was visible on the shelf. He quickly swiped it, while the woman manning the store stepped into the back. It was taking a very long time to acquire the components he needed, but he couldn't risk calling attention to himself by taking stupid chances.

Next, he visited the guards' bathroom. It was empty, so he was able to reach up and hide his component with the others, behind the ceiling panel. Stretching up was incredibly painful, and increased the flow of blood from the wounds on his back. He hoped that the Master was right, and that no one would notice it.

 

As was usual when the Master sent him out of the hidden room, Jack was required to take food down to the cells for his team. Over the last few days, they had watched him kill two more people, bringing his total number of executions to eight. The Doctor, and the Torchwood team, had witnessed them all. Needless to say, their attitude to him had not softened with time.

He bent to push the trays through the food slots and, with an effort, succeeded in making no sound as the movement stretched the carving on his back.

“Come to fetch someone for execution, have you?,” demanded Gwen belligerently. “What are you going to do when the Master sends you to take one of us?”

Jack knew that, as long as he played his part to the Master's satisfaction, that would never happen.

“Or, are you going to help him torture the Doctor again?,” sneered Ianto. The Master had begun to switch the Doctor between young and old frequently, many times with Jack accompanying him to assist. The team had witnessed how much pain that cost the Doctor.

 

Perhaps it was the physical pain he was hiding, that made Jack less able to ignore the comments on this occasion, He could feel every one of the knife wounds on his back, and the blood trickling down, and for once he answered back.

 

“You don't have to act as if I like helping the Master,” he snapped. “I have no choice! Why can't you understand that?”

“Oh, we do understand,” Ianto answered. “We understand that you chose the easy way.” He came up to the bars, directly in front of Jack. “We think that not one of us would do what you have done.”

“Damn right,” interjected Owen, “we have too much integrity.”

Ianto had more to say. “We know about you,” he spat. ”The Doctor told us that you were a conman when he met you, with no loyalty to anyone but yourself. And it seems the leopard doesn't change its spots.”

Inwardly, Jack seethed at that. How dare the Doctor tell his team about his criminal past. Hadn't he proved himself, over and over, since then. Did dying for the Doctor's cause, not prove he could be loyal? He would bet that the Doctor hadn't told them about that, or about the Doctor's own lack of loyalty on that occasion.

 

* * * * *

 

As unlikely as it seemed, the Cotswold airport, near Cirencester, was the centre of the resistance against the Master in the south of England. Thirty rebels were based there, living in the underground storage facilities. Four were pilots, that used to work at the site. On the runways, the remains of aircraft stood. They had been shot to pieces by passing Toclafane.

Cotswold airport was small and unimportant, but it was a centre for decommissioning commercial aircraft. It had slipped under the Master's radar. The Toclafane had not been specifically ordered to raze it. In passing, they had taken potshots at the aircraft visible on the site, and had exploded the fuel storage tanks. But, they had not systematically worked their way through the hangers shooting up the planes and helicopters. Two passenger planes, formerly used for package holidays, and two helicopters had survived unscathed. They were old, but still airworthy. The breaking up process had not started. And they had enough fuel for a short flight each.

There had been a lot of debate among the rebels, about how to make use of their resources. Allsopp, who was their leader, suggested that they use the planes to ram the Valiant if it came within range, in the hope that the Master would be killed in the impact or the, hopefully, subsequent crash. Brown, and his subgroup, favoured the idea of a direct assault on the Valiant, with as many men as they could muster. All were agreed that they had to do something, even if cost them all their lives. They were exploring all their options, and had sent messengers out to all the rebel groups they knew of, to forge links and hopefully increase their manpower if they needed it.

 

* * * *

Day 143

The Master strode into the hidden room, where Jack was chained against the wall.

“So Freak, it's been three months since we came to our arrangement. It's time for me to ask you again. Do you want to keep to this deal, or take the other one on offer?”

Jack met the Master's gaze bravely. “I'll keep to this one.”

The Master was honestly surprised. “Are you mad? You've seen how they treat you. You can't honestly believe that you owe them this.”

Jack shook his head. “I don't owe them it, but I have to do it.”

“Why?,” the Master asked with genuine curiosity.

“Because I love them.”

“Love them!” the Master spluttered. “You are insane. Every one of these people betrayed you. Each one was suborned by someone, who they found more important than you. Even your so called lover, Ianto Jones.”

Jack could not deny it.

“They don't love you,” the Master stressed emphatically, hammering each word home.

“I know.”


	12. Chapter 12

Day 200

Ianto was dragged into the Master's personal suite, and began to panic. He struggled violently, as there was only one reason he could think of for the Master to want him in his bedroom.

 

The Master followed the guards into the room, and correctly interpreted Ianto's panic. “Oh Mr Jones, you needn't worry. You're really not my type.”

 

Ianto relaxed minimally at this statement, but there could be no good reason for him being there. With trepidation, he took the bull by the horns, and asked directly. “What am I here for?”

 

The Master grinned malevolently. “I thought you might want a private visit with your lover.”

 

“Ex-lover you mean,” spat Ianto. “I won't have anything to do with scum who side with you.”

 

The Master just laughed. “Really. You'll miss out on a lot. He's a superb lay. But, of course, you already know that don't you.”

 

Ianto ground his teeth with rage, on hearing the obvious implication, that Jack was the Master's lover. He wanted to wipe the smirk off the Master's face, but, in the interests of self preservation, confined himself to a snide remark. “Well, Jack always would go with anything. I shouldn't be surprised.”

 

The Master was too full of anticipation about the impending meeting, to bother taking offense. He clapped his hands together. “Right, let's get this show on the road.”

 

He nodded to Stevens and Modine, who grabbed Ianto, and pushed him towards the hidden entrance. Ignoring his surprise, they forced him to follow the Master into the room. They hauled Ianto to the chains on the wall, and secured him there, so he couldn't interfere with whatever was about to happen.

 

It was quite dark in the hidden room, despite the light that flooded in from the open door. Ianto had to wait a moment for his eyes to adjust, before he could begin to take in the features of the room. As his eyes got used to the dimness, he saw a scene from a horror film. There were chains dangling from the ceiling, and more attached to two pillars. A metal table, about waist height and six feet long, stood at one side. There were restraints mounted at the corners. Several equipment lockers lined one wall, and Ianto did not want to contemplate what was kept in them. His panic was rising again. Maybe the Master wouldn't rape him, but there was a hell of a lot more he could do. But that wouldn't explain why he said he could visit Jack.

 

It was as if his mind was shying away from looking at the far wall. But eventually he did. A wooden beam, about shoulder height, somewhat incongruously, ran the length of the wall. There were dark stains, leading downwards from the beam, at several points along it. And halfway along the beam, with his arms tied to it, was Jack. He was facing into the room, with his arms outstretched either side. His head was bowed, and his eyes were closed. Ianto gasped at the bloody welts that covered his naked body. “Jack!”

 

“Indeed,” the Master said with glee. “Welcome to your lover, oh forgive me, your ex-lover's humble abode.”

 

“What have you done to him,” breathed Ianto.

 

“What haven't I done?” replied the Master. “It's been a fun six months.” He paused, then added , “fun for me at least.”

 

Ianto was in shock, and trying to get his head around this new information. “But he works for you. Why would you do this?”

 

“That's what I wanted everyone to think,” laughed the Master. “And it worked too, didn't it. For five months everyone has believed that, and he's been hated and reviled, while the whole time I've been playing my little games with him.”

 

“Oh god,” murmured Ianto, remembering all the times he had sneered at and heaped invective on Jack. His own words echoed in his mind, 'I hope he hurts you.' Finding it hard to accept, Ianto yelled, “but why did he go along with it? Why let us all hate him?”

 

“You'll have to ask him that,” replied the Master. “But now I want to put on a little show for you, to show you how well trained our little freak is.”

 

With that, he called out an order “Freak, wake up. Come here.”

 

Jack slowly raised his head, and looked across the room towards the Master. He saw Ianto, next to him, and cringed. He had hoped that none of his friends would ever know the pain and humiliation that he was forced to endure by the Master. And for Ianto to witness it, was almost worse than the torture itself.

 

“I said come here,” thundered the Master.

 

Jack steeled himself, and prepared to obey. No matter how much he wished that Ianto would not witness this, he had to comply. The consequences to Ianto himself, and the rest of the Torchwood team, if he did not, would be dire.

 

The first thing he had to do to obey, was free himself from the beam.

 

Ianto watched in horror, as he saw Jack strain at what was holding him to the beam. He realised, for the first time, that Jack was not tied to the beam, but had a metal spike driven through each of his palms, nailing him to the beam. He retched violently, as he watched Jack yanking his hands to get them free. Suddenly Jack's left hand came loose, the spike passing all he way through his hand, and remaining embedded in the beam. Blood poured from the wound. Jack sagged, held up only by the spike impaling his other hand.

 

“Come here, now,” the Master ordered again.

 

“Yes, Master,” Jack replied, and with a last effort, yanked his other hand free. Since the spikes were the only things holding him up, when he freed himself from them, Jack slumped to the ground. His feet were swollen and black with bruising; several bones were broken. Burning with shame and humiliation, he slowly and painfully crawled on knees and elbows along the floor, to where the Master was waiting.

 

When Jack reached the Master, he pushed himself up into a kneeling position, head bowed low, and awaited further orders.

 

The Master turned to Ianto, and with a sweep of his hand indicating Jack, said, “What do you think, he's very well trained isn't he? Shall I show you some more of his tricks?”

 

“No,” yelled Ianto, “that's enough, I get the point.”

 

“Oh, just one more,” said the Master pouting. Then he barked another order to Jack. “Submit.”

 

If it were possible, Jack's heart plummeted even further. The Master was going to rape him, right in front of Ianto. And he would do nothing to stop him. Though his mind shrieked 'No, no, no, not that, not in front of Ianto,' with only the slightest, unnoticeable, hesitation Jack did as he was ordered.

 

Ianto watched in a daze as Jack, moving slowly due to his injuries, lay flat on his stomach and spread his legs. Jack was only a few feet from him, and Ianto saw clearly the intricate pattern that had been carved into his back.

 

“Care for a go?,” asked the Master, “for old times' sake. After all, he did abandon you without a word, to run off with the Doctor. This would give you a bit of revenge.”

 

Ianto, who was barely holding on to his last meal, shook his head. He averted his eyes, and tried not to hear Jack's soft moans of pain as the Master prodded his wounds. “I have to redo this pattern every time he dies, you know.”

 

 

Standing up, from where he had been crouched over Jack, and smiling gleefully, the Master said “Well, I promised you a private visit with your ex-lover. And I do keep my promises. So I'll leave you two alone to get reacquainted.”

 

 

“Unchain him, and leave them in here for the night,” he ordered the guards, “oh, and strip him, we don't want his clothes to get messed up by the Freak's blood.”

 

With that, he swept out of the room.

 

When the guards had gone, Ianto hesitantly approached Jack, who had pushed himself into a sitting position next to the wall.. His heart nearly broke, as he got a closeup view of the damage. Guilt, about the way he had treated Jack over the last several months, was beginning to overwhelm him.

 

“Jack,” he said tentatively, “I'm so sorry. I truly believed that you were helping him willingly.”

 

Despite his pain, and the shame and humiliation he was feeling, even though the Master had, thank god, not raped him this time, Jack laughed hollowly. “That's what you were supposed to believe.”

 

 

“But why?” queried Ianto incredulously, “you must have known how everyone would react. Why pretend to be helping him?”

 

“He spent the first month torturing me, and then told me he'd do the same to all of you if I didn't go along with him.” Jack deliberately did not mention that he could have been spared all the torture, if he'd just agreed to the team's torture instead. “I knew exactly what he was capable of by then,” Jack continued. “What you saw tonight was nothing, he's capable of far worse than that. I couldn't let him do that. And I had to be convincing.”

 

Jack broke down then. “It was so hard, Ianto,” he sobbed, “the Master knew exactly what he was doing, and he did it purely to hurt me. Everyone I care about believes that I'm a turncoat, only out for myself, and that I've betrayed the entire human race. Even you believed it Ianto, you believed it so easily. Do you know how that made me feel?”

 

“I'm so sorry Jack, I wanted not to believe it,” cried Ianto, “but you were so convincing, and you had run out on us without a word. Please can you forgive me?”

 

“I guess I'm just too good an actor,” agreed Jack. “How can I blame you for believing what I wanted you to believe.”

 

Changing the subject abruptly, Ianto asked Jack if there was anything in the room that could be used to treat his wounds and clean him up.

 

Jack shook his head. “If they want me cleaned up, they send Tish in, and if they want me healed, they kill me.”

 

Ianto was shocked, “You mean Tish knows about this!,” he waved his hand vaguely around the room. “Why the hell didn't she tell anyone?”

 

Jack defended her, “She couldn't, for the same reasons I couldn't. The Master would have tortured her parents, and all of you as well. She's done her best to help me, when I had no one else.”

 

Ianto's anger fled as quickly as it had arrived. He knew that Tish had no choice. “What can I do for you?” he asked. “Can I get you more comfortable?”

 

Jack reached up to Ianto's face with his ruined hand. Tracing his face, he said, “just hold me.” So Ianto got himself and Jack arranged, spooned together on the floor. He was careful not to jar Jack's hands or feet, and was as gentle as he could be with Jack's other wounds. He gently kissed the back of Jack's neck and shoulder and stroked his skin in the places with no wounds.

 

Jack relaxed into Ianto's ministrations, feeling loved and cared for by him, as he had only dreamed of since he had run after the TARDIS and the Doctor.

 

“Why is he doing this?” mused Ianto, “I mean, what does he get out of letting me see you and talk to you?”

 

“He knows that I didn't want anyone to see me like this,” Jack replied. “So that could be the only reason. But it's too simple. He's got a devious mind, there's got to be more to it than that. And does he expect you to keep quiet about it as well? You have to, you know,” he finished urgently.

 

“It's not right that he treats you like this, and yet everyone thinks you are a traitor,” argued Ianto angrily.

 

“But you can't give me away,” Jack insisted. “Otherwise he'll torture all of you and all of this has been for nothing.”

 

“Ok,” agreed Ianto reluctantly. He turned Jack in his embrace ,and stroked his face gently before leaning in for a passionate kiss, which Jack returned fiercely. As they continued kissing, Jack became aware that Ianto was hard. He gently stroked his erection with the edge of his hand.

 

“Oh god Jack, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for that to happen,” stuttered Ianto.

 

“You never need to apologise for wanting me,” Jack replied, “but you're right. I'm in no fit state to do anything about it.”

 

Ianto enveloped Jack in as close an embrace as he could, and positioned them so that he lay on the cold floor, with Jack lying on top of him. “For once you are going to have a warm sleep,” he declared, and with Jack held in Ianto's protective arms, they settled down together for the night.

 

 

Hours later, when they woke from sleep, Jack whispered to Ianto. “You know we might not get through this.”

 

Ianto, knowing full well that what Jack really meant was that he, Ianto, might not get through this, just nodded.

 

Hesitantly, Jack continued, “in case anything happens, I wanted you to know that I love you. I loved you even before I went to get my answers from the Doctor. I was always going to come back.”

 

Hearing this, Ianto felt a huge weight removed from his soul. His sense of abandonment and betrayal lessened, and the love for Jack that he had tried to bury, even before the Valiant, began to reassert itself. “I love you too,” he whispered back, and in their happiness they shared a long lingering kiss. They broke apart abruptly when the Master, and the guards, came back into the room to take Ianto back to his cell.


	13. Chapter 13

Day 201-208

 

Before he left the room, to follow Ianto and the guards, the Master retrieved a knife from the cupboard and walked over to Jack. He grasped his hair in one hand, pulling Jack's head back, and cut his throat in one quick motion. “I hope you enjoyed last night, Freak. It's the only one you'll get with your boy toy,” the Master laughed. Jack died quickly, and was, thankfully, alone when he revived. He happily replayed his memories of Ianto, and the night before, in his mind, a small smile on his face.

 

After some time, Tish entered the room, with her mop and bucket. Jack couldn't wait to tell her about Ianto. He was ecstatic. Ianto had told him that he loved him, something that he'd never done in their whole long, complicated, relationship. And he had not expected the Master to allow them more time together, so was not deflated by his words. Just knowing that Ianto was out there, and loved him, gave him an immense boost.

 

Tish could see the happiness in Jack's eyes, and the bounce in his step. She was truly happy for him, and gave him a giant hug. She had never known anyone more in need of love, or more deserving of it.

 

“He hasn't told the rest of your team about seeing you,” Tish told Jack. “The guards brought him back to his cell a few hours ago. He's just telling them that the Master asked him a lot of questions about the Torchwood archive. I would never have guessed that he'd seen you.”

 

 

“That's the way it has to be,” Jack replied, glad that Ianto had done as he asked. “He will have to pretend that everything is the same as it was before. Do they believe his story?”

 

“Yes,” confirmed Tish hesitantly, “but they don't understand why he's not hurt. Everyone else that get's interrogated by the Master ends up on the verge of death.”

 

Jack had a sudden panicked thought, that the team might turn on Ianto, and accuse him of collaborating, if they didn't believe his story. But what else could Ianto have said. The truth would have had much worse consequences than that.

 

 

* * * * *

 

 

The next time Jack saw the team, he watched Ianto carefully, sure that he would see a more softened expression, or a look in his eyes that apologised for the words he spoke. He had to act as if he still hated Jack, he understood that. But there was nothing. Ianto seemed to be taking the pretense very seriously.

 

 

* * * * *

 

 

A week had passed since Jack and Ianto had spent the night together. Jack had seen the team several times. The good thing was that the team were treating Ianto no differently to before, so they clearly believed his story. The bad thing was that Ianto had still given Jack no hint or sign of his changed attitude. Each time Jack had seen them, his happiness diminished and was rapidly moving back towards depression.

 

 

Jack was delivering food to the team as usual, and was enduring their abuse as always. Ianto, however, was being especially cruel. This was incomprehensible to Jack, who had expected him to be a little kinder, even while keeping up the pretense of hating him. The only explanation that Jack had come up with, was that Ianto did not remember. And, knowing the Master, that was all too plausible.

 

 

In response to a particularly cruel barb, Jack murmured, “Ianto, please …,” then trailed off, for what could he say. “I love you,” he finally came out with.

 

 

“You don't love me. If you did, you could never betray our side like this,” Ianto retorted viciously.

 

Jack had no answer, none that he could admit to anyway. That he loved Ianto with all his heart, that he had not betrayed them, and never would. If he announced that, he would be signing Ianto's death warrant, and the others.

 

Ianto's next words cut him like a knife. “Well, don't hold any illusions. I don't love you. How could I?”

 

As calmly as he could, Jack turned, left the cell block, and went back to the Master.

 

* * * *

 

 

“What did you do?” Jack demanded. “He doesn't remember, does he?”

 

The Master laughed. “You don't think I'd let him go back to the rest of that team of yours, if he remembered your encounter, do you? I had him retconned as soon as he left your room. I must admit, he put up quite a fight. He kept yelling that I couldn't do that to you. It took two guards to hold him down, while I poured the retcon down his throat.”

 

The Master got up close to Jack, and smirked with glee. “He even cried for you, Freak. Bless.”

 

Jack couldn't hold back his fury. He launched himself at the Master, with a cry of “you bastard.”

 

The Master swotted him aside effortlessly. “Be glad that, due to your overemotional state, I'll overlook this,” he snarled and left the room, closing the door and leaving Jack in the darkness to sob out his heartbreak.


	14. Chapter 14

Day 240

 

 

By a stroke of good fortune, the Cirencester rebels had made contact with a group of seventeen UNIT soldiers, who had not gone over to the Master's side. They were led by a General Ingham. Though they had no access to UNIT facilities, the Master and his UNIT troops had control of everything, they did have a significant stash of weapons. They had agreed to join with the Cirencester rebels, and their allies, in a two pronged attack on the Master.

 

They would use one of their planes to land an assault force on the Valiant, as large and well armed as they could muster. It would be a one way trip for the plane, as they would not be able to turn it after they landed. This assault would have one aim only. To kill the Master. The second plane would be sent half an hour after the first one, with just the pilot aboard. It would be in constant touch with the assault force and, in the event that they failed, it would ram the Valiant. Their two helicopters would stand by, to rescue any survivors who managed to get back to the upper deck. The helicopters could only carry a fraction of the numbers that the plane could but, if things went wrong, it was unlikely that many of their people would remain alive long enough to be rescued.

 

The rebels were amassing as many men, and women, as they could. People were coming from the rebel enclaves, all round the UK. It was dangerous to move so many people, but this was going to be their major offensive. It was a desperate attempt but, if it did not work, there wasn't another plan.

 

 

* * * *

 

Tish entered the room warily, not sure what she would find. The Master had sent her in to, in his words, 'take care of Jack'. She held the keys to Jack's chains in her hand. Tish was worried about Jack, more worried than usual that is, since she was always worried. In the weeks since Jack had realised that Ianto had no memory of their night together, he had sunk into despair. Jack feared that, even if Ianto discovered the true situation again, it might never be possible to regain the love that they had declared. Being vilified by Ianto, and the rest of the team, every time he saw them, just twisted the knife.

 

The Master had not let up on his physical onslaught on Jack, and Jack's mental defences were crumbling. Tish had never known how, every month, he could find the courage to refuse the Master's offer to end his torture. And now, she would not be surprised if Jack had reached the end of his endurance, and would accept the offer. She would not blame him. But that was a problem for another day, the immediate problem was obvious as she approached Jack.

 

 

Jack was standing, arms outstretched between the chains in the centre of the room. He was naked, and massively erect. He was breathing heavily, but looked up when she entered the room.

 

Jack's heart sank when he saw Tish. He did not want her to get involved in this situation. The Master had injected him with the same aphrodisiac drug he had used previously. He may not have given him as large a dose as he had the previous time, but Jack was still desperate for sex, and he did not know if he would be able to control himself much longer. Cringing, he remembered how he had behaved before. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Tish.

 

“Jack, you need help.”

 

“I do, but it's not something I can ask you to help me with,” Jack gasped.

 

“I'm the only one here,” Tish replied. “The Master gave me the keys to your chains. I can let you out of them.”

 

“No!” shouted Jack, “don't unchain me. The Master gave me a drug. I don't know if I'll be able to resist. I don't want to rape you.”

 

Tish considered for a moment, then, laying the keys on the floor, walked up to Jack and grasped his erection. She moved her hand up and down and, with a groan, Jack started to thrust into her hand. He came quickly but did not soften.

 

“It's not enough,” he whispered in despair.

 

Tish had witnessed the aftermath of Jack's suffering on far too many occasions. She had never been able to prevent any of it. But now she could help. Picking up the keys again, she moved over to unlock the chains.

 

“No Tish, don't,” cried Jack again.

 

Tish smiled gently, “you can't rape me if I want it, Jack. And I do want you.”

 

“I don't want to hurt you.”

 

“You won't.” And, with that statement of trust, she unlocked the chains.

 

As Jack stood, desperately holding on to his self control, Tish pulled her maid's dress off over her head, leaving her wearing only a bra and knickers. She reached behind her back to undo her bra, and threw it to one side. Then she moved up to Jack, and pulled him down into a deep kiss. Only the material of her knickers stood between them, and Jack made short work of those. Unable to hold back any longer, he pushed her down to the floor and, without preamble, entered her. Despite his drug induced desperation, he managed not to be too violent. Tish welcomed him into her body, pulling him close and kissing him again.

 

 

Jack's orgasm followed quickly, but the drug made him harden again almost immediately. He scooped her up, and, kneeling down, he brought her up to straddle his lap. He remained in her throughout the maneuver. Tish clung to him, and Jack continued to thrust, with their bodies pressed close together. Each of Jack's movements scraped his lower belly against her clit, and Tish was soon reaching her own climax, shuddering and clenching around him.

 

As the drug worked its way through Jack's system, they made love for hours. For that is what it was. Although Jack and Tish were both well aware that his heart lay with Ianto, Jack did love Tish. She had been his truest, and only, friend since he has been on the Valiant. And Tish, in turn, loved Jack, for his courage and the sacrifices he made for his team. She had no doubt that he would have done the same for her, and her family. It did not hurt that Jack was a gorgeous man, and Tish a beautiful woman. Both were exhausted, and sore, by the time Jack was sated. They fell into an exhausted sleep, entwined together on the floor.

 

 

* * * * *

 

The following morning, the Master walked into the room. He gazed down on the sleeping humans with fury. Things had not gone according to plan. He knew that Tish would not be able to resist releasing Jack, and he had wanted Jack to be out of control enough to violently rape her, without killing her. He must have underestimated the dose needed. Still, what's done was done. And it wasn't a total waste. The Doctor had been way too understanding of Jack's apparent new allegiance. He could definitely use this to drive a wedge between the Doctor and Jack.

 

“Get up!” he roared, watching with satisfaction as Jack and Tish woke suddenly, and leaped to their feet in terror.

 

“You,” he ordered, pointing at Tish. “Get dressed, go to the kitchens and take the Doctor his food.”

 

Tish cringed, realising that she was totally naked in front of the Master. She hurriedly found her dress and put it on, searching around desperately for the rest of her clothes. When dressed, she timidly asked the Master, “Please, may I have a shower before I do that?” She was sticky and uncomfortable, and did not want the Doctor or her parents to guess that she had been sleeping with someone. It would only lead to awkward questions.

 

“You may not,” was the Master's succinct reply. “Now go."

 

As Tish hurried to obey and left, the Master turned back to Jack. “You can't just do as I want you to, can you?” he hissed.

 

Jack flinched backwards, as the Master stalked towards him, starting to undo his belt. The Master leaned close to him and whispered, “submit.”

 

* * * * * *

 

Tish walked onto the flight deck slowly, carrying a tray with the Doctor's usual slop. She called quietly to him, as he lay in his tent.

 

The Doctor, currently in his young form, emerged with a smile.”Hello Tish.”

 

“Hi Doctor.” She placed his food on the floor and moved towards the door, trying to look as if she wasn't hurrying. But she stopped when she heard the Doctor call her name in a sharp tone.

 

Tish reeked of Jack's pheromones, and was obviously having some difficulty walking. The Doctor was furious. “Tell me,” he demanded, grabbing her arm. “Did he force you?”

 

“What?,” stuttered Tish, taken aback, “Who?”

 

“Jack,” emphasised the Doctor. “Did he rape you?”

 

“No! Of course not,” cried Tish. “It wasn't like that. Jack would never do anything like that.”

 

“He is in a position of power over you,” continued the Doctor angrily, “even if he didn't physically force you, that's coercion.”

 

“No it wasn't,” floundered Tish. “It was my choice.” She could see that the Doctor didn't believe her, but she could not explain the true circumstances without betraying Jack and making all his sacrifices be for nothing. “He did nothing wrong,” she yelled at the Doctor, and then fled the room.

 

The Doctor was left behind, fuming.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: explicit violence.

Day 250-260

 

 

Jack, accompanied by one Toclafane, entered the cell block. He took the keys for the cells off his belt, and walked down the row. He passed the cells in which the Torchwood team were confined. He walked quietly, in an effort not to be noticed, but they were awake and crowded to the bars to watch him.

 

“What is it now Jack,” they taunted. “Doing another errand for your lord and master. You make me sick,” Owen called.

 

Jack ignored them, and continued down to the end of the corridor. There, he unlocked a cell, and ordered the occupant to come out. When they did not move, Jack entered the cell, grabbed them by the arm, and dragged them out.

 

“The Master wants to see you.”

 

The prisoner, understandably, dug his heels in, and Jack had to haul him bodily down the corridor.

 

The Torchwood team were incensed, and increased their tirade of invective as Jack passed their cells again. They even spat at him.

 

Jack left the cell block as quickly as he could, and dragged the prisoner to the flight deck, where the Master waited. A camera was set up, ready for a broadcast to the world. Several Toclafane floated above. The Doctor, aged again, sat in his wheelchair with a stony look on his face. He did not look at Jack.

 

As Jack waited for the Master to make his wishes known, four guards arrived on the flight deck. Each of them was escorting one member of the Torchwood team. Jack's heart sank. Whatever happened next, it wouldn't be good.

 

When everyone was present, the Master clapped his hands and announced “Let's get this show on the road.” He looked at the cameraman, and nodded. The broadcast started.

 

“It has come to my attention that there is a growing rebel movement in and around my shipyards. I have already caught several of the saboteurs. One of them is about to be executed. The others will follow over the next several days.”

 

The Master then turned to Jack. He moved over to a wooden box, that lay on the table, and opened it. He took out a long, wicked looking, knife. He handed the knife to Jack, and ordered “kill him, and make it slow.”

 

Inwardly Jack was horrified. He had got used to cleanly executing people on the Master's orders. He knew that they would die, no matter what he did, and that they would die much more horribly if he refused to cooperate. But this. The Master was practically ordering him to torture the man to death, right in front of his team, the Doctor, and the world. But so expert had Jack become at hiding everything; from his feelings, to his fear, and his physical pain, that not a flicker of his turmoil showed on his face.

 

He accepted the knife from the Master, wishing more than anything that he could use it on the Time Lord himself. But, if he tried that, the Toclafane would slaughter him and his team before he could touch the Master. And, if he didn't obey, the result would be the same.

 

Two guards were holding the prisoner still, waiting for him to approach. Jack steeled himself, and walked up to the man. He was young, about Ianto's age and a similar build, but blonde. He drove the knife into the prisoner's abdomen, in a place that he knew would not be fatal. Trying desperately to ignore the man's screams, Jack moved the knife upwards slowly. Blood was flowing over his hands and the cuffs of his shirt. It didn't show up on the black shirt. His team were yelling at him to stop, and the Doctor was looking at him now, with an expression of total contempt.

 

Jack looked at the blood, and moved into a state of semi shock. He was only too intimately familiar with what this knife felt like. Acting on instinct, before his conscious mind could stop him, he moved the knife in such a way that death was instantaneous. As the guards released him, the young man fell to the floor in front of him.

 

As Jack stepped back, he saw the flicker of fury cross the Master's face. It was gone in an instant, as the Master turned to the cameras. “And so perish those who oppose me,” he intoned theatrically, before cutting off the broadcast.

 

“Come with me,” he ordered Jack, and strode off the flight deck

 

* * * * *

 

The Master was incandescent with rage. When he and Jack were back in the secret room, he backhanded Jack across the face, so hard that he flew halfway across the room and landed heavily against the table. He slid to the floor, feeling the pain from a broken cheekbone and ribs.

 

“How dare you defy me! You gave that man a quick death, when you knew I wanted him to suffer. That is not the message I wanted to send to the rebels. I wanted them to fear the same slow, horrible, death if they get caught.”

 

Stevens and Modine entered the room at this point, and stood behind the Master, awaiting orders.

 

“I am going to punish you for this. You were warned what would happen if you didn't obey me. I am now going to kill one of your friends.”

 

Hearing this, Jack began to plead with the Master. He dragged himself up and moved to kneel in front of him, bowing his head practically to the ground. “No, don't, please. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to kill him so quickly, it was an accident.” It was only partly a lie. Jack had not made a conscious decision to defy the Master. “Punish me, yes, but don't hurt my friends.”

 

“No,” snarled the Master. “I am going to burn one of them, right in front of you, it's only a matter of which one.” He turned to Stevens. “Fetch a can of petrol.”

 

At this, Jack became even more frantic. Burning was one of the worst deaths he had ever experienced, and the Master was well aware of that. He couldn't let that happen to one of his team. Practically throwing himself at the Master's feet, Jack begged and pleaded for another chance, promising to do better the next time.

 

The Master let him continue to beg until Stevens was back with the petrol.

 

“But,” the Master pouted. “I've got the petrol now. It would be such a waste not to use it.”

 

He looked down at Jack, loving his degradation and subservience.

 

“Who do you want to burn, Freak? You choose.” He briefly waited for an answer . “Can't make a decision? Alright, I'll do it for you.” He turned to Stevens, “Fetch the Torchwood Doctor, Owen isn't it?”

 

“No!” In his desperation, Jack came up with the one solution he knew the Master would accept. “Burn me !”

 

Stevens hesitated at the door.

 

Inwardly the Master smirked, he had expected no less. And this power play was going to leave him with a man who would obey, no matter how awful the task he was assigned.

 

“But you hate fire,” the Master objected, wanting to make Jack beg some more. “And it's only Owen. He's not really been nice to you over the last few months has he?”

 

“Please Master, do it to me, not him,” Jack begged.

 

“If I agree to this, will you will obey all my orders to the letter?” the Master questioned, “no matter what you think of the orders.”

 

“Yes,” Jack cried.

 

“Oh, very well.”

 

“Chain him up,” the Master ordered the guards. And Jack was soon chained between the two pillars, arms outstretched.

 

The Master moved forward, and poured the petrol liberally over Jack. He then stood back and, holding his laser screwdriver poised, said “last chance to change your mind, Freak.”

 

Jack just closed his eyes.

 

Ten minutes later, a charred corpse hung from the chains above a melted section of the floor, and the stench of burnt meat filled the room.

 

* * * *

 

Over the next several days, Jack tortured five people to death, slowly, watched by the Master, the Doctor, his team, and broadcast to the world. He was now known worldwide as the Master's executioner.

 

Even though he had been required to do equally terrible things before, in his days working for the Time Agency, this was different. These were people that he admired. They were fighting for a cause he believed in wholeheartedly, and wished he could join. He wished he could help them escape, but all he could do was kill them, without even the mercy of a quick death. It was eating away at what little sanity he had left.

 

His nightmares were no longer only of being tortured, but also of being the torturer, his hands awash with blood.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning dub con (but not explicit)

Day 265-267

 

Trembling, Jack held the EMP device in his hand. It had taken months, but at last it was ready. All he had to do was press the button, and all the Toclafane on the Valiant would be incapacitated, along with any electrical equipment that did not have protection.. But he hesitated. What good would it do to use it now. It was one use only, and short range, so only the Valiant would be affected. Even with the Toclafane out of the way, there were still the Master's guards, all armed with machine guns. And it would not take long for other Toclafane to realise that something had happened on the Valiant. Reluctantly he placed the device back in its hiding place. Although he knew he was losing the game to the Master, and could not hold on much longer, he would have to bide his time and wait for an opportunity when it would do some good.

 

He needed to use it when he was with the Master, and in a position where he could kill him the moment the Toclafane were incapacitated.

 

* * * * *

 

Jack woke as the Master walked in to the room. Hours previously he had been killed, and then ordered to clean himself up. But, instead of being sent out to do the Master's bidding, he had been chained, fully dressed, to the wall of the hidden room.

 

The Master walked up to him, holding another syringe.

 

Jack cringed away, but could do nothing to stop him, as the Master pushed up his sleeve and injected him in the arm.

 

“Don't worry,” he purred, “this won't hurt you, it will only make you relax.”

 

It was fast acting; a feeling of happiness and well being swept through Jack almost immediately. The trembling, that had plagued him almost all of the time recently, faded away.

 

The Master smiled, and pulled a blue crystal out of his pocket. “This wouldn't usually work on you, but, combined with the drug and this crystal, I hope it will now,” he said conversationally. He raised the crystal to Jack's eye level. Jack gazed into it calmly. Changing his tone to one of command, but non threatening, the Master said, “I am the Master, and you will obey me.”

 

* * * * * *

 

When he came back to himself, Jack was naked and lying in the centre of the room. He had no memory of what had happened after the Master had told him to obey. He sat up and checked himself for injuries, but there were none. As he stood, however, he was shocked to find semen trickling down his legs. He was also sore in several places, in a good way, as if he'd had a long night of passion. What the hell had happened?

 

* * * * * * *

 

The Torchwood team were surprised to be taken from their cells to a small room off the cell block, and locked in. Being taken from the cells was nothing new, but usually they ended up on the flight deck, watching an execution.

 

The room was comfortable, with chairs and a table, and a large screen mounted on the wall. It was the most luxury they had encountered since they were imprisoned on the Valiant.

 

“Well, I'm going to make the most of this,” Gwen said, as the others merely gazed at the comfy chairs. She planted herself in one of the chairs, with a long sigh of appreciation. The others quickly followed her example. They were left there for a long time, waiting for something to happen.

 

“This is even more boring than being locked in our cells,” complained Owen.

 

“Be glad about that,” Tosh reminded him. “Boring is good.”

 

As she spoke, the door opened to reveal the Master, grinning like a loon. His guards remained outside as he entered, accompanied only by one Toclafane. “Oh you won't be bored for long Miss Sato, or at least I don't think so,” he said happily. “I have a couple of hours of entertainment planned for you.” Striking a dramatic pose, he indicated the screen, “Dada! It's movie time.”

 

The screen flared into life, showing a play DVD icon.

 

“I'm off to watch this with the Doctor on the flight deck,” the Master explained. “So it will start in a few minutes. Enjoy.” With that, he left the room, which was securely locked behind him.

 

The team sat waiting, with considerable trepidation. They couldn't imagine what sort of film the Master would want to show them. It was hardly going to be the new Harry Potter.

 

“It's probably going to be someone we know being tortured,” Tosh suggested worriedly.

 

“Oh God, not Rhys,” murmured Gwen. Not being on the Toclafane's target list, he and Andy had escaped when the rest of them were captured, and she desperately hoped that they were still alive and free.

 

Owen put his arms around her. “If it was that, he would have done it right in front of us,” he reassured. As he hugged her, the movie began, and they all fell silent.

 

It showed a luxurious bedroom and, lying stretched out on the king sized bed, fully dressed in his usual black, and reading a book, was Jack.

 

“What the hell?” began Ianto, but cut himself off as the door to the bedroom onscreen opened, and the Master entered. The smile that lit up Jack's face at the Master's entrance made him nauseous. The two men onscreen spoke briefly, but there was no sound on the film, so he could not tell what they were saying.

 

The team watched as Jack stood up and walked over to the Master, pulling him into a passionate kiss, which the Master matched with equal fervour. Things moved on quickly from that point, and it wasn't long before the two men were naked and lying together on the bed. `

 

By this point Gwen and Tosh were horrified, but also blushing furiously, and they didn't know where to look. They were very grateful for the lack of sound. Owen was just incredibly angry.

 

Ianto was stunned. Although he considered Jack to be a traitor, and beneath contempt, he had, naively, not expected Jack and the Master to become lovers. And this film showed him that they were lovers, in the deepest meaning of the term. The others were only seeing that Jack and the Master were having passionate sex, but Ianto recognised the gentle touches and encouragement that Jack was giving the Master. He knew them intimately, from his most fulfilling encounters with Jack. Jack was treating the Master exactly as he had treated Ianto, on the occasions when they had the time, and inclination, to truly appreciate their partner. It was heartbreaking, and tainted the memories he had held on to, of when he believed in Jack and was closest to him.

 

Although it went on for two hours, he watched the film intently, noting every gesture of affection Jack gave the Master, and filing it away in his mind. The hate he had for Jack grew exponentially.

 

When Jack and the Master at last fell asleep together, the film finally stopped. The team looked at each other in shock, and Tosh asked, “still bored?”

 

“Shit,” was Owen's considered reply.

 

“It can't really have been Jack, can it,” argued Gwen. “Even if he is working for the Master, he wouldn't do that. It has to be a trick.”

 

“It was no trick,” stated Ianto bitterly. “I know every inch of that man, and every nuance of his behaviour. That was definitely Jack, having a good time.” That was an understatement, but Ianto was not willing to admit how hurt he was to see Jack treat the Master in such a loving way.

 

“Jesus, he really has gone over to the Master the whole way, hasn't he,” Owen breathed.

 

“Did you doubt it, after he butchered all those rebels?” retorted Ianto.

 

“No. No I didn't,” replied Owen, “even before that.”

 

Gwen and Tosh nodded their agreement.

 

Not long after that the guards arrived to take them back to their cells.

 

* * * * *

 

Tish was cleaning the hidden room, and for once Jack was relatively healthy. Healthy physically, at least. Her worry for his mental state had been increasing, ever since Ianto had been retconned. He had got even worse after he first tortured one of the rebel prisoners to death. Tish did not know exactly how the Master had persuaded Jack to do it, but she knew enough to know that he did not have a choice.

 

Not that it made any difference to the prisoners. They would have been tortured horribly, whether Jack did it or not. Tish had seen the aftermath of Stevens and Modine's visits to prisoners in the cell block many times. They revelled in the butchery. In fact, the only prisoners whose fate had been changed by Jack's involvement were the ones who had received a more merciful death. It was hard for Jack to focus on that though, rather than the awful things he had been forced to do.

 

The toll the combination of physical and mental abuse was taking on Jack was horrendous. She'd call it PTSD, but there was no post about it. Jack was barely able to function, and now trembled all the time, except when he was sent out in public. Tish knew what a supreme effort of will it took for him to suppress the tremors enough, so no one, particularly the Doctor and the Torchwood team, would notice. If he failed in his act as the Master's willing assistant, she dreaded the consequences.

 

Jack was telling her about his loss of memory that day. The only thing that had come to him since he came to his senses, was that he had dreamed of Ianto.

 

“Was it a good dream?” Tish asked.

 

“Oh yeah,” smiled Jack wistfully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That blue crystal was meant to be one of the Metebelis crystals, as in the Jon Pertwee episodes. I don't have those on DVD but, from what I remember, they were supposed to make it easier to hypnotise people. But don't ask me how the Master got one !


	17. Chapter 17

Day 270-271

 

So far fifty men and women had arrived at Cotswold airport, to add to the twenty who were based there, and the seventeen UNIT men. All had received weapons training from the UNIT soldiers. Twenty more were expected within two days, from Cardiff. The runway had been cleared of debris, and the planes and helicopters checked over. They were nearly ready.

* * * *

On the Valiant, a commotion broke out in the cell block, as fifteen prisoners were herded in, and separated into small groups to be locked in the cells. Human guards, and Toclafane, forced them to obey, but they did not do so quietly.

 

The Torchwood team had not seen so many prisoners brought in at one time before. But they did not have time to wonder at this for long, before Jack came into the cell block. He ignored the new prisoners, and, instead, approached the cells with the Torchwood team. He unlocked Gwen and Tosh's cell. They backed away from him in fear, which broke his heart. “Gwen, the Master wants you on the flight deck,” he told her.

The last six times that Jack had fetched someone to the see the Master on the flight deck, they had been tortured to death, so Gwen and the rest of the team were terrified to hear those words. “No!,” shrieked Gwen and Tosh, in unison. Ianto and Owen, in the next cell, reached through the bars, trying to grab Jack, but he was too far away. “You can't take her,” cried Owen.

Jack tried to reassure them. “It's OK, Gwen won't be harmed, you have my word.” He knew that, sadistic madman though the Master was, he was a man of his word. And, as long as Jack kept to his end of the bargain, Gwen and the others would not be touched.

“You expect us to take your word?” sneered Ianto. “Show some backbone, and stop doing your lover's dirty work.”

Jack blanched at the word lover. Why would Ianto call him that? But he ignored it, and entered Tosh and Gwen's cell. Gwen fell back, but Tosh flew at him, raking his face with her nails and drawing blood. “Leave her alone,” she yelled.

Jack, hampered by the fact that he did not want to hurt Tosh, pushed her to one side, while grabbing Gwen's arm with his other hand. He had to drag her, kicking and screaming, out of the cell, with the other three yelling abuse at him. Once he had got her out of the cell, he managed, with difficulty, to re-lock the cell door. During the altercation he had lost his concentration, and hence his self control, and the trembling was beginning to manifest itself.

Ianto noticed. “Frightened of a couple of girls, are you?” he taunted.

Jack forced himself to calm down. “Gwen, listen to me, it's OK, he won't hurt you.” But it was useless. She did not believe him. He was forced to drag her all the way up to the flight deck.

When they reached the flight deck, the Master was nose to nose with the Doctor, who was aged and sitting in his wheelchair.

On spotting Jack and Gwen, the Master stood up straight and moved towards them. “A little the worse for wear aren't you, Jack,” he smirked, touching Jack's cheek.

“It's nothing,” Jack replied, moving away slightly.

Turning his attention to Gwen, the Master beamed at her. “My dear Miss Cooper, you're probably wondering why I've had you brought up here today.”

Gwen glared at him. “I presume I'm going to be executed,” she declared bravely.

The Master laughed. “Oh, no. Didn't Jack tell you, you wouldn't be harmed? You're here to be a witness. I though it was appropriate as you are Welsh, though I suppose Mr Jones would have done just as well.”

 

Turning back to the Doctor, the Master spun his wheelchair round in circles, finally bringing it to a halt near a porthole. “Do you know where we are? No? We are above Cardiff. Even without that meddling team of Handsome Jack's,” he nodded over to Jack and Gwen at this point, “the good people of Cardiff are still causing trouble. I don't have any shipyards nearby, or any use for the population there, so I'm going to send my Toclafane down to obliterate them. He signaled to a Toclafane that was hovering nearby, and it disappeared. Shortly after, streams of Toclafane could be seen converging on the ruined city below them.

Gwen, and Jack, though he did not show it, were horrified. Gwen shrieked, “No! Please, call them back. You can't do this.” She might have physically attacked the Master, but Jack held her back. As she watched the Toclafane descend, Gwen started to sob, “Rhys!” she cried.

“You don't have to do this,” the Doctor croaked, unheard by Jack or Gwen. He had asked many times before, but had to ask again. “Destroy the paradox machine, and you and I can travel the universe together. There is no need for this butchery.”

“Oh, but it's such fun,” crowed the Master. “Don't you think!” He then danced happily around the room, to the music, as all humans in Cardiff died.

* * *

Reports of the destruction of the human population of Cardiff, and the reason why, reached the rebels at Cirencester the following day.

It was a disaster. Leaving aside the fate of the Cardiff population, fifteen of the final twenty men, expected from Cardiff, had been caught. And they had not been killed, but had been taken up to the Valiant. It was only a matter of time before the Master found out, from one of them, that an attack was planned. Allsopp and General Ingham were under no illusions. Someone would spill their secrets under torture. They could only hope it was not already too late.

It was now urgent to act, or the moment would be lost. And everything was right. They had as many men as they would ever have, and, to watch the destruction of Cardiff, the Valiant was flying within range. They had to do it now.


	18. Chapter 18

Day 271

 

 

Springing into action, General Ingham gave the order to mobilise. The men and women in the assault force moved quickly to gather their equipment, and weapons, and boarded the plane. The helicopter pilots went to their helicopters, and the pilot of the kamikaze plane boarded his. All was ready. After pushing back the first plane, out of the hanger and onto the runway, time was of the essence. If the Toclafane saw it on the ground, they would attack. There was enough air traffic coming and going to the Valiant, that it might slip through without challenge once airborne. The plane roared along the runway and took off.

 

After a ten minute delay, the helicopters took off and headed for the Valiant. They were slower than the planes, and their departure was timed so that they would arrive at the Valiant twenty minutes after the assault force landed. They would then be able to hang back, waiting for a signal, but be close enough to get there quickly, to rescue as many people as possible, in the case of a retreat.

 

Ten minutes after the helicopters left, the skeleton ground staff pushed the second plane out of its hanger, ready to takeoff and follow the first to the Valiant. It would be in constant communication with the helicopters and the people on the first plane. Unless the signal to abort or delay the mission was given, it would ram the Valiant thirty minutes after the first plane landed. The rebels dared not leave a longer interval before the planned ram, as they feared that that would allow the Master time to send Toclafane to shoot down the second plane. They needed to take out the Master quickly or the mission would fail, and the ram would be their only hope.

 

 

* * * * *

 

The first plane landed on the Valiant without difficulty. There were no safeguards in place to prevent it, as the Master had not expected such an assault. But their luck could not last. The rebels poured off the plane, armed to the teeth, and headed down into the main body of the Valiant.

 

On the flight deck, the guards on duty received frantic calls from those near the runways, and alerted the Master. Jack was accompanying the Master towards the flight deck at the time. The Master was furious, and ordered all the Toclafane on the Valiant to intercept the rebels. He headed for the flight deck, ordering Jack to return to his suite.

 

No guards were present to enforce the order however, leaving Jack free to do as he pleased. He had heard the flight deck's report of what was happening. But he could predict what the result would be. However many men the rebels had managed to get onto the Valiant, they would all be slaughtered by the Toclafane, before they could achieve anything. They had only one chance, and that was if Jack could knock out the Toclafane, and quickly, before the rebels' numbers were reduced too much.

 

Jack only had moments to decide what to do. He would be risking the lives of all his team, but this was the best chance there had been to defeat the Master. And, in all honesty, he couldn't cope any longer. The next time the Master asked if he wanted to keep to the current agreement, he didn't think he would be able to say yes. It was now or never. He had to try. Decision made, he set off for the guards' bathroom at a dead run. No one would stop him. To the UNIT guards he was the Master's trusted assistant. Only Stevens and Modine knew the truth.

 

Reaching the deserted bathroom, Jack retrieved his EMP device and, without hesitation, pressed the button. The only immediate effect Jack could see, was that all the lights went out. But elsewhere on the Valiant the effects were more dramatic. As one, the Toclafane dropped, as if lifeless, to the decks. All unprotected instrumentation ceased to work. Everything on the Valiant that depended on electromagnetism, and had no lightning protection, ceased to function. The engines, being purely mechanical, continued to run, so there was no immediate danger of a crash.

 

The rebels were in serious trouble up to that point, having lost half their number in the first few minutes of fighting. They had no clue what had happened to the Toclafane, but they weren't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. About thirty remained alive. They poured into the main body of the aircraft carrier, killing anyone who resisted them. Without the Toclafane, the Valiant was insufficiently defended, and the rebels soon fought their way to the flight deck.

 

 

* * * * *

 

On the flight deck, the Master was yelling at the few guards who were present. Communications were out, so he had no way of coordinating the guards who were not on the flight deck. The Doctor, young again, was smirking behind the Master's back. The Master rounded on him, and caught him doing it. Incensed, he grabbed the Doctor by his lapels, and threw him hard across the room. He landed near Francine, who was doing her best to avoid the Master's wrath, by staying well out of his way.

 

At that moment, the doors to the flight deck banged open, and two men in UNIT uniforms burst in. They opened fire on the Master and his guards, but did their best to avoid those they identified as unarmed civilians. The Doctor and Francine threw themselves away from the machine gun fire, landing with the Doctor shielding Francine with his body. A few seconds later the gunfire stopped, and more armed UNIT soldiers and rebels entered the flight deck.

 

A UNIT General appeared to be in charge. He ordered half his men to continue through the Valiant, looking for more of the Master's guards. The others he had covering the fallen men. Carefully, one of the rebels approached the Master's body. He turned it over, and, after scrutinising it carefully, confirmed “It's him alright. And he's dead.”

 

The UNIT General, however, was familiar with Time Lords and their regenerative powers. He ordered two of his troops to stand over the Master, ready to shoot him again if he revived.

 

By this time, the Doctor and Francine had picked themselves up. Francine was ecstatic that the Master was dead, but the Doctor was horrified. He ran over towards him, pushing the soldiers and rebels out of the way. Seeing that the Doctor was about to get himself shot, the General, who had recognised him, intervened. He ordered his men to allow the Doctor through.

 

The Doctor gathered up the Master in his arms, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Come on, please,” he begged. “Regenerate, I won't let them shoot you again.” But it was no use, the Master did not regenerate. Francine looked on with disbelief, as the Doctor cried for the madman who had enslaved Earth, and had so many people tortured and murdered.

 

The General, who had been distracted by the Doctor's reaction, suddenly remembered the second plane. “Allsopp,” he barked. “Abort the ram!”

 

Allsopp tried to contact the second plane, only to discover that his radio did not work. All the others tried theirs, but none would function. The General ran to the Valiant's communications console, but that too was out of action.

 

The Doctor had looked up, as the sense of panic began to spread among the rebels and soldiers. “None of that will work,” he told them, “nor will communications on your plane. It's all been knocked out by an EMP.”

 

The General turned to two of his men, “There's only one chance to stop that plane ramming us. Get up to the top deck, and wave a white flag. Get our helicopters to come down, and use their radio.” The men ran from the flight deck at top speed.

 

 

* * * * * *

 

 

On the plane currently flying towards the Valiant, the pilot was on his radio repeating over and over. “This is plane 2, this is plane 2, come in please.” He was getting no response from the rebels. Changing his frequency, he tried the helicopters, “This is plane 2, come in heli 1” To the pilot's relief, this time he did get a reply.

 

“This is heli 1, receiving you. We have lost all contact with the assault force. We must assume that the mission has failed, and proceed according to plan.”

 

Knowing that meant his death, the pilot acknowledged the message and aimed his plane directly at the Valiant.

 

As time was running out, the helicopters flew towards the Valiant hoping to rescue at least a few of their people. As they approached, they saw two of their men waving white shirts. Seeing no immediate threat, heli 2 landed on the helipad near the men. They ran towards it and climbed in. After a rapid discussion with the helicopter pilot, he lifted off, while frantically broadcasting to the plane. “Plane 2, this is heli 2, the mission has succeeded. Abort the ram, I repeat abort the ram. The password is peanuts. Land on the Valiant, but do not ram. Acknowledge please.” The pilot repeated the message over and over as the plane came closer, but there was no response.

 

 

On the flight deck everyone, except the Doctor who was still cradling the Master's body, had crowded to the windows. They held their breath as they watched the plane get closer and closer to the Valiant.


	19. Chapter 19

Day 271

 

The pilot of the second plane heard the frantic messages from the helicopter pilot. He was panicking about what to do. The fact that all contact had been lost with the assault force on the Valiant, did not gel with what the helicopter pilot was saying. How could the mission have succeeded, and left all communications out? But the password was correct, so the message must be genuine. Or was it ? Could the Master have found out that password, and so quickly ?

 

The pilot dithered, as the plane approached the Valiant. Time was running out. He had to make a decision. At the last possible moment, he pulled the nose of the plane up slightly and angled for a landing. He prayed that he'd made the right decision.

 

* * * *

 

On the flight deck, the relief was palpable. The UNIT soldiers and rebels relaxed. But, the fact that the second plane and the helicopters were still functioning, told the Doctor that the EMP had been a localised event. He pulled himself together, blocking his emotions away, to be dealt with at a later time. “General, are you in charge?” he asked.

 

“Yes, Doctor. I am in command of the UNIT and rebel forces,” the General replied.

 

“Then you need to act quickly. We won't have much time before other Toclafane realise that there is a problem here. It was fortunate that their communications were knocked out, along with everything else, but we need to destroy the paradox machine before they can arrive to protect it.”

 

“How do we do that?” asked the General.

 

“I can do that if I get to the TARDIS,” replied the Doctor. “When it is destroyed, time will reverse to the point at which the paradox began. So, just after the President was killed. For everyone off the Valiant, these last nine months will never have happened. Only those on board the Valiant will remember.”

 

The General caught on quickly. “Then we need to evacuate as many people as we can.” Turning to two rebels, who had originally been staff at Cotswold airport, he ordered them to get up to the flight deck, and get the planes turned around so they could take off.”

 

“Your first plane won't be useable,” the Doctor interrupted, “it would have been hit by the EMP.”

 

“OK,” confirmed the General. “Just turn around the second plane, and be ready to evacuate.”

 

The two men set off quickly, and the General turned to his remaining men. Have our people sweep the Valiant, and get all non-essential personnel loaded onto our plane and the helicopters. Take the Master's people with you too. Most of them were probably not acting of their own volition.”

 

“The Torchwood team are in the cells,” interjected the Doctor. “They'll be able to help you coordinate. And don't forget the dead,” the Doctor added suddenly. “They'll stay dead if you leave them on board. Throw all the bodies over the side. There's a morgue in the cell block, and probably bodies scattered around the corridors from the fighting.”

 

“Fetch some radios and torches from the second plane,” ordered the General. “The lights won't be working. I've seen the plans of the Valiant, there's no natural light down near the cells.”

 

His men ran to obey, leaving just two men to guard the Master's body.

 

“I'm sorry, Doctor,” said the General. “He stays dead.”

 

The Doctor nodded sadly and, turning to Francine, said “Go up to the top deck, and get on the plane.”

 

“But what about Clive and Tish,” she argued.

 

“The General's men will get them to the transport,” he promised, “they'll be fine.”

 

“And Martha?”

 

The Doctor put his arm round her shoulder. “She's down on the surface somewhere. Wherever she is, time will reverse, and she'll be back up here on the Valiant with you before you know it.”

 

“General, I'll go now to the TARDIS. I'll give you as long as I can, to get people off, before I destroy the machine. But if the Toclafane come, I'll have to do it immediately.”

 

The General nodded. “I'll send word when we're ready. I'll need to know where the TARDIS is, so I'll send Peterson with you now.”

 

The Doctor left, with the UNIT soldier, following his instinctual feeling for where the TARDIS was. Once there, he entered and looked in horror at what the Master had done to his beloved ship. He prepared what he needed to destroy the machine, and waited, watching through the open door, for the General or the Toclafane.

 

* * * *

With the aid of torches from the second plane, several of the rebels headed down to the cells to rescue their compatriots. They shot a guard they found stumbling about in the dark along the way, and took the keys to the cells off him. They released all the prisoners, their fellow rebels, the other unfortunate men and women who had crossed the Master in some way, and the Torchwood team. A few were too weak to leave their cells, but most were relatively fit.

 

The prisoners had seen their fellows tortured for information, and murdered. Even the Cardiff group, who had only been there for one day, had watched two of their number die. They were angry and, though they were unarmed, they boiled out of the cell block, looking for revenge against the Master and his guards, particularly Stevens and Modine. .

 

They overwhelmed two guards, that they encountered on their way towards the flight deck, and continued towards the upper decks where windows let in light.

 

* * * * *

 

After the lights had gone out, Jack had groped his way slowly out of the bathroom, and into a pitch black corridor. He headed for the flight deck but, even though he knew the Valiant well, it was slow going. He carried the EMP device with him. As he reached an open section with windows, he heard voices coming towards him. There were a lot of them, and they sounded angry.

 

Jack was unarmed, and had absolutely no wish to fight against the rebels, so he prepared to surrender. They saw him as they came out of the corridor. Jack raised his empty hands, to show that he had no weapons.

 

The rebels were quick to realise that Jack was unarmed, and surrounded him. But Jack was well known by the prisoners on the Valiant and, via the Master's broadcasts, by most of the rebels. It did not take long for someone to identify him, and angry murmurings swept through the crowd.

 

For a tense moment, the crowd gazed at Jack, and he at them. Then someone shouted, “you murdered my brother,” and that broke the impasse. As the mood changed, Jack caught sight of Ianto, at the back of the crowd. Their eyes met, and Jack reached out a hand, wordlessly asking for help. But Ianto turned away. The mob surged forwards and converged on Jack, fists flying. He went down under the onslaught, trying desperately to protect himself against the blows and kicks. The EMP device went flying, and was trampled, unnoticed, underfoot.

 

By the time the mob had finished with him, Jack had been beaten unconscious and lay bleeding in a heap on the floor. He was dragged away and locked up, still unconscious, in a cell.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have arrived at the last chapter of Hidden Behind Our Appearances. Please bear in mind that this is not the end of the story. Originally I had planned one long story, but I had to chop it up into more than one part, to make it manageable for me to get ready to post. Part 2 will begin soon

Day 271 (Day 1)

 

The liberated prisoners continued their rampage for some time. They managed to corner Stevens and Modine in a dead end corridor, close to the cell block. Given the numbers ranged against them, the two guards threw down their weapons and surrendered. They were punched and kicked as they were dragged off to a cell.

 

After many minutes of mayhem, the men who had rescued the prisoners calmed them down enough to listen to the orders the General had given them. The Torchwood team, who had not joined in the attacks, stepped forward, and volunteered to help coordinate. They took charge of getting the dead off the Valiant, and the badly injured prisoners up to the plane.

 

The rebels were about to get their, newly incarcerated, prisoners escorted up to the evacuation plane, when an argument broke out. Most of them thought that this would mean that the Master's chief butchers would get off without paying for their crimes. They would not go along with that.

 

The General, who had been informed that there was trouble down in the cell block, had come down to sort it out.

 

“Quiet everyone,” he yelled forcefully.

 

Silence fell.

 

“I have heard what you are saying, and I agree. We all know what they have done. These people don't deserve to have the past nine months erased. They deserve to go on trial for collaboration, and crimes against humanity. As the highest ranking UNIT officer present, answering to Her Majesty the Queen, I have the authority to make that decision.” He looked towards Owen, who was the only Torchwood member present. “That includes Harkness. Do you have any objection ?”

 

“No,” stated Owen, “he deserves to stand trial for what he's done, and I'm sure the rest of Torchwood will agree.”

 

“Right, then let's get on with the evacuation. Time is running out. We can deal with them later.”

 

* * * *

 

Tish was in the kitchens, readying the food for the Doctor, when the EMP pulse occurred. The microwave oven she was using died, and all the lights went out. Fortunately, there was a small window that let in the daylight. Tish and the kitchen workers looked at each other worriedly, and clustered together in fear when they heard the sound of gunfire from down the corridor.

 

A few moments later, a soldier with a machine gun burst into the kitchen. He started to shoot, but realised that he was facing a group of unarmed civilians, and managed to turn his gun so the shots went harmlessly into the ceiling. “Right, you lot,” he barked, “the Master is dead, and I have orders to take everyone to the upper deck. So let's go.” He herded the scared group out of the kitchen, and towards the top deck.

 

Tish and the other workers were over the moon to hear about the Master's death, if it was true, but the soldier that had found them gave no explanation of who he was, or why they were being moved. So it was a fearful group who arrived on the upper deck. Two helicopters sat on the helipads, and a Monarch plane was being turned around at the end of its runway. The group were taken towards one of the helicopters, which was partially loaded with passengers. Tish recognised several members of the Master's domestic staff.

 

“Get on,” ordered their soldier. All but Tish obeyed without question.

 

“What's going on,” Tish demanded, not moving to obey. “Where are you taking us, and why?”

 

“You're being evacuated,” the soldier explained. “It's OK, this is a rescue. You're safe now.”

 

But Tish did not want to leave without her family and Jack. “Where are my parents?”

 

“Everyone is being evacuated,” the soldier replied, “they'll be put on the plane, now get on board. There isn't much time.”

 

Tish had a sudden, horrible, thought. What if Jack was in the hidden room. He would not be rescued, and worse, everyone thought that he was the Master's right hand man. If they did find him, who knows what they would do. “I can't go without Jack,” she argued, “let me go find him and bring him here.”

 

“Look miss,” the soldier said belligerently. “There isn't much time, let us worry about everyone else. Time is going to be reset, and for all of you the last nine months will never have happened. Be grateful. Now get on!” he shouted angrily. With that, he grabbed Tish and shoved her bodily into the helicopter doorway, where she was hauled in by a couple of the rebels.

 

“No,” Tish shouted, “I need to see someone in authority. I need to explain about Jack.. He's not working for the Master. He's innocent. You must help him!”

 

Her words were drowned out by the noise, as the helicopter's rotors began to move. The helicopter, now with a full load, took off, with Tish still yelling and screaming to be allowed off.

 

* * * *

 

When Jack regained consciousness, he found himself locked in a cell. He sat up gingerly, as he was at the least badly bruised, and he thought he might have broken some ribs. It was nothing compared to his usual state after the Master had played his games, though.

 

Gwen was standing outside the cell, watching him.

 

“Gwen,” he said, confused. “What's going on, have the rebels won?”

 

“Unfortunately for you, yes,” she replied. “And you'll be sorry to hear that your lover is dead?”

 

Shock ran through Jack as, for a moment, he thought that she meant Ianto. But she wouldn't mention his death that callously, would she?

 

“Ianto?”

 

“No! I mean your latest lover, The Master.”

 

“You mean the Master is dead?” Jack was disoriented from the concussion he had suffered at the hands of the rebels, and it took a few moments to sink in. Incredible relief flooded through him; his team were safe, and he would be free from the Master's sadism. He suddenly realised that Gwen was still speaking, and forced himself to concentrate on what she was saying.

 

“The Doctor is about to destroy the paradox machine. Time will reverse, and no one, except those on the Valiant, will have lived these nine months,” explained Gwen. “All non-essential personnel have been evacuated.”

 

As an ex-Time Agent, Jack grasped all the ramifications of that immediately. Seeing his salvation, Jack begged, “Please Gwen, I want to forget, I NEED to forget. Get me off the Valiant.”

 

“It's too late, all the transports have left.”

 

“Then throw me off the top deck,” begged Jack in desperation, seeing his chance at ridding himself of the horrendous memories of pain and humiliation, and being bathed in bucketfuls of other people's blood, receding. Retcon would not work on him, due to his 51st century physiology, so this was his only chance.

 

Gwen was shocked. “Even after everything you've done, we can't do that!”

 

“I'll jump,” Jack cried.

 

“No! And anyway, it's been decided that you, and those two butchers,” she indicated Stevens and Modine at the far end of the cell block, “will stand trial for crimes against humanity.”

 

With that, she left the cell block for the flight deck, closing her ears to Jack's desperate pleas.

 

* * * * *

 

The Doctor waited just inside the TARDIS doors. He was prepared to act at the first sight of a Toclafane. The initial rush of adrenaline, after the Master's death, had subsided, and his mind was filled with an awful void where the last mental connection to his race had been. The extent of his grief threatened to overwhelm him, but he held himself together because he was needed. It was his responsibility to right the wrongs that the Master had done, and return Earth to it's proper timeline. He would do that, and then leave Earth as soon as he could, so that he could give the Master a Gallifreyan funeral and mourn him properly.

 

Time went on, with the Doctor expecting to be attacked by Toclafane at any moment. Surely they would realise what had happened soon. But, about one hour after the Master's death, Peterson and General Ingham came running up to the TARDIS.

 

The only people who remained on the Valiant were the Doctor, Torchwood, a skeleton UNIT and rebel force and, locked in the cells, the collaborators; those whose crimes were deemed too serious for a memory erasure, when time reset, to be adequate punishment.

 

“We're ready,“ declared the General. “Destroy the machine.”

 

“The Doctor didn't hesitate, but smashed the machine until nothing remained of it but insignificant pieces.

 

Everyone on the Valiant braced themselves, as time reversed and then the temporal backwash subsided. All over the Earth and the ship, events had returned to what they were, when the Master brought the Toclafane from the future. On the flight deck, Martha appeared, holding Jack's vortex manipulator.,Her parents, and Tish, were standing under guard near the doorway. The President was dead and all the other people were being held at gunpoint by the Master's henchmen.

 

To those who were not on the Valiant when the paradox was ended, it seemed as if the Master, the Doctor and Jack had simply vanished. And, several UNIT soldiers and scruffy looking civilians with guns, had appeared from nowhere. The UNIT and rebel soldiers easily disarmed the Master's henchmen, who were confused by the Master's vanishing act, and took control, reassuring everyone that the danger was now over.

 

* * * * *

 

Called in by the General, reinforcements for the UNIT soldiers arrived shortly after time returned to normal. They dealt with getting all the civilians off the Valiant. Martha's parents and Tish had remained for some time, talking with Martha, but had now been returned to their homes.

 

Martha approached the Doctor, who was sitting in misery on the flight deck.

 

“I'm sorry your friend was killed,” she said. “The soldiers have explained to me a bit of what happened.”

 

“He wasn't always evil, you know,” the Doctor explained, forcing himself to be calm for Martha's sake. “Back when we were young, he was a good person. The Untempered Schism drove him mad.” The Doctor shuddered. “He was the last of the Time Lords, apart from me. I'll be alone now, forever.”

 

“You've got me,” Martha assured him. “And Jack. Where is he by the way?”

 

The Doctor's face darkened at the mention of Jack. “He joined the Master, and is now going to be put on trial for it,” he said flatly.

 

“No, I don't believe it, he seemed to be such a good man,” Martha argued. “Can I see him?”

 

The Doctor was barely holding back his grief due to the Master's death, and only had enough energy left to deal with Martha and his damaged TARDIS. He had no energy for pointless visits to ex-companions, who had murdered and raped. Jack would be tried for his crimes, and sentenced accordingly. It was justice, and the Doctor would not interfere in that.

 

 

“There's no point,” the Doctor said harshly. “he misled us all. And I have more important things to attend to.” Springing up, he led Martha from the flight deck to the TARDIS, where the Master's body was waiting. They dematerialised a few minutes later.

 

 

* * * * *

 

 

In the cells, Jack awaited transport down to a UNIT holding facility. His chance to wipe away the events of the Valiant, had gone. He was in a daze, which he vaguely recognised as a state of shock. The horrendous abuse he had suffered for nine months, combined with the hate he had received from his friends, had left him shattered. Now that the need for pretense to protect his friends was over, he was crashing. But no matter what they thought, he told himself, he had kept them safe so it had been worth it.

 

 

End of Part 1. To be continued in Part 2 (Too Long A Sacrifice).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that in the episode LOTL when time reverses the people who were on the Valiant at the start of the paradox did not reappear. But I always thought they should have done. Where else would they go? So in my AU they do return to where they were at the start of the paradox.


End file.
